#‘made for each other but not meant to be’ broke my heart in half btw

[darlingsfandom]

Hi, can you please please write about y/n being closer to Cillian's age and used to date him before Cillian became famous. So they drifted apart and now almost 10 years later Cillian is married to someone else (Preferably an actress for this shot) but one day met y/n (she is married too now btw) and now they both can't stop thinking about each other? Then you can think the rest ig.... like illicit affair or something like that....

Btw I love your writing! I always look forward to reading them <3

I sure can!

TW: cheating, p in v unwrapped , not proofread.

They always say that when two people are destined to be together that will always find their way back to each other and in this case it was true.

Twelve years ago you had said goodbye to Cillian because things weren’t working out the way the two of you had planned and it broke your heart to let him go but you didn’t want to be selfish. He had promised to find you again someday. Days turned weeks, weeks turned to months and months turned to years and you never found him again. You had to move on no matter how hard it was. Eventually you found a man who was a big time producer on the set of a movie you stared in and the rest was history.

Now in the present day you’ve done some guest starring on tv shows while your husband worked on some big hit movies!

“Babe! You’re not going to believe who we got to co-Star with you in the new movie.” Your husband was excited as a kid on Christmas.

“Who’s going to be my leading man?” You laughed a little as he bounced on his feet.

“We got Cillian Murphy !” His smile went big as your heart broke in half. It was written on your face. “I thought you’d be a little more excited! Yes a huge star! Just did Oppenheimer !”

“No no I’m excited just hard to believe.” You waved your hand trying to dismiss your hard feelings. Your husband never knew that you had once been with Cillian many moons ago and now was not the time to mention it.

“Maybe it will excite you more that his wife is going to be in the movie as well! Just a small role but still!” Your heart sank even further. You knew he was married and married another actress who had similar features to you but now it was on your home , it was too close for comfort but you swallowed that bitter pill to make your husband happy.

The morning came to start shooting and all you wanted to do was hide. You sat in your trailer wrapped in a blanket sulking in your pity. A small knock came on your trailer door.

“Go away!” You yelled but the door opened away. You rolled your eyes. “I said go…” your words froze up as you seen him standing there. Cillian was two feet away from you with his hand in his pocket looking at you.

“I did that a long time ago…” he spoke up making you stand up and fight back your tears. Neither of you said a word but he could feel the sadness radiating off of you. “And don’t think I regret it.”

“I left because you wanted different things than I did. You got to go and become the star that you’ve always wanted. Everyone adores you! You got older and more attractive ! Meanwhile my own husband adores you more than he does me!” Your eyes swelled up as you turned your hands into fist.

“I took this role because it meant for the first time in twelve years that I’d be with you again! The script was poorly written, the plot makes no sense well some of it does but still ! I took it to see you again!” Cillian stepped closer to you making you step back until your back was against the wall.

“What about your wife hmm?”

“The blood sucking gold digger who can only do butter commercials and begged me to beg the producer who happens to be your husband to be in it? You think I’m happy with her now? No! I’m not!”

“Then why’d you marry her?”

“Because she looks like you! She’s a cheap version of you!” Cillian cupped your face and made you look in his eyes. He had genuine emotion swirling around in the them and you wanted to kiss him so much it ached but you couldn’t. You pressed your face into the side of his neck while he tightly wrapped his arms around your back. He smelled of leather and sandalwood which you inhaled deeply while he drew circles on your back with his thumbs. This was home, this was comfort and safety , this is what your life was missing.

“After this movie I want you to run away with me! We can go anywhere we want! Just us.” He spoke in a way that made you look up at him with soft eyes.

“I can’t just leave my husband … well actually I could, bastards been cheating on me for the last few months.”

“Then why are you still with him?” Cillian furrowed his eyebrows together. “You’re a smart girl, you don’t deserve a man like that.”

A knock on the door made you jump. Neither of you were doing anything wrong.

“Are you two ready? We’re ready to start shooting.” Came from the other side and he grabbed your hand to take you to the set. It was just the beginning.

Four months of filming had passed and each day Cillian and you grew closer. It was as if he never broke your heart to begin with. Some nights it was just you and him running lines together while other nights he reminded you how good he was in bed.

“This is wrong!” You huffed as he bent you the dressing room table and shoved his cock deep inside of you.

“Ya love it ya fucking slut!” Cillian made you look in the mirror as he started thrusting into you.

“Fuck yes Cillian! Give it to me!” You spat through gritted teeth. Cillian watched you in the mirror as he fucked you hard in the dressing room while getting ready to shoot the next scene which ironically enough was a sex scene.

“That’s my girl , fuck!” He held onto you tightly. This was just a quickie to get the two of you through the day. It wasn’t unusual for a quickie to happen on set or in a trailer because now that the two of you were rejoined it was hard to separate you two. Your husband never questioned all the closeness because he didn’t really care, he was doing his own cheating but he didn’t think you were. As far as Cillians wife knew the two of you had nothing going on. She was busy using the casting couch to try to get another role somewhere but her luck wasn’t that good.

Six months had now passed and filming was wrapping up. Press tour had started which meant hotel rooms, lots of questions and soon enough your divorce looming around the corner.

“Cillian?” You peeped up as the two of you laid in bed together naked.

“Yes darlin?” He ran his hand over your arm.

“Do you still really want to run away with me?” You turned on your side.

“Of course I do! I’ve lost you once, I’m not going to do that again. Plus… I should’ve told you this awhile ago but have you noticed that I’m not wearing my ring anymore?” He held up his hand and it was indeed empty.

“What did you do with it?”

“I gave it back to her, she yelled , broke a few things around the house and that was after I gave her the papers.”

“You’re already getting divorced !” You shot up quickly holding the blanket over your naked breasts.

“Baby, I’m already divorced. When we rekindled the first day of shooting I went out and got things into motion. Why do you think she hasn’t been on the press tour?” Cillian looked up at you with loving eyes as his hands ran over your thigh.

A silence fell over the room as the two of you cuddled back up and shared a kiss that quickly got heated. His hands grabbed onto your thighs and pulled them over his lap to help you straddle his lap.

“Need you now!” You mumbled against his lips. Cillian lifted your hips a little bit so he could adjust his cock and help you down on it.

“Fuck! Yer so warm baby.” Cillian moaned as you pushed back on his cock. You place your hands on his warm bare chest to steady yourself and rode his cock slowly. The way you moved your hips was hypnotic to him. You rode him in a way he’s never had and he loved it. It wasn’t long before your hormones took over and made you excited.

“Oh fuck yeah! Dats my girl!” He gasped out as you started bouncing on his cock faster which made your tits giggle and he was in love all over again. He always admired your tits and they’ve only gotten better with your age. He watched how your mouth hung open letting out the cutest moans he’s ever heard as you bounced yourself harder on his cock making you cry out.

“I’m gonna cum Cillian ! Fuck!” You reached down to rub your clit as best as you could while slowing down on his cock but he didn’t care. He loved the view of you touching yourself.

“Cum on baby! Cum for me be a good girl! OH! That’s a good girl! Yes cum on my cock!” He encouraged as you squirted against his cock soaking him and the sheets. You shook hard before collapsing against his chest. “Shh it’s okay baby, I got ya.” He kissed your forehead gently as you panted against his chest.

This was what you’ve missed , what you needed all these years of just accepting what you thought you deserved but time was finally on your side and lead you back to the person you loved the most.

[catzula]

the lightning thief ii.

a/n: okay so I was not going to write a second part but I liked it a lot so here we go. This can be read as a standalone btw, you don't really have to read the first part to understand, but like,,, still lmao

warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of wounds, mentions of death, cursing, tw: major character death, tw: blood if anything else, please tell me

honorable mentions: first half pure angst, the rest is slow-burn, enemies to lovers with Gojo. 6.4k? Yeah, meant it when I said slowburn. oh- soulmate au!! I really hope y'all like this as much as you did the first part oof

Gojo sometimes wonders if your souls are tied to each other because you're in love or if you're in love because of the shared tie.

"I'm sorry, Gojo." Your voice is scratchy, and Gojo can tell it hurts even to speak. "I'm so sorry."

You don't want to see your lover crying hovering over you; it's your fault his tears stream down his cheeks, but it's impossible to take your eyes off of him. Gojo shakes his head side to side, lips quivering as his grip on you tightens, too afraid to let you go.

Your face is getting paler by the second; your hand reaches to his face to wipe his tear, but you fall weak. So instead, your god takes your trembling, ice-cold hand in his, guiding it to his face, nuzzling his face into your touch.

He can't- it's too much. He had to witness this, your limping body in his arms, counting minutes till you leave him, thousands, millions of times, but each time hurts just as much. And knowing this is- this is the last time... he thinks he's going mad.

"Please," his voice is a hush, blending in with the wind. "Please don't go. I can't go on without you." Gojo sobs, pulling you closer to him, flush to his chest as he feels your face nuzzle his neck. "I need you- I don't care how long it takes, I just want to see you again."

"I'm sorry," you sob into his chest, drinking his smell one last time.

One last time.

It's your fault he's sobbing like this. It's your fault this is the last time you're ever going to be together. It's your fault his bright, pearl-white hair is soiled with a dark burgundy of blood.

"I thought- I just wanted to help."

Your words only seem to make him cry harder; his voice raises to shouts, pushing you closer to himself as if guarding you against death. "I know, baby, I know." He manages to say. "I'm not- I'm not mad at you."

He should be. You're the one who broke the bond, after all. It's your fault the piece of lightning that used to tie you together broke in two.

"I love you so much; you know that, right?" He ushers you. "I'll always love you, so just please-" He shakes his head side to side as he notices you can't keep your eyes open anymore. "don't leave me."

Not much to say; all he can do now is to beg.

If anyone- anything else saw him this very second, on the ground, holding the body of a mortal girl, dirt all over him, begging shamelessly, no one would believe he's a god, let alone the strongest. But at that moment, he doesn't care.

You have it easy, you think. You're never the one to witness your lover's death, grieve after he's gone. As you watch him sob like a leaf in between a storm, holding your numbing body, it feels selfish.

People seem to think he's the selfish one, and they're right in any other thing he does, but never in love.

"I don't want to leave." You finally tell him, despite knowing it'll only hurt him more, it'll wound him deeper, you're still unable to hold it in as you clutch him as if he's the one thing still holding you alive.

"It's okay." He hushes you, caressing your hair, grazing your cold skin. "Just sleep now, okay? You're not going anywhere, I won't let you."

You smile. Gojo wishes for you to ask him for the promise, the promise to find you in the next life as well, "wait for me, Gojo." You'd tell him, "Find me again, meet me in my next life." He would always respond with a teary smile. "Always, my love."

But instead, you stay quiet this once.

Gojo's mouth goes dry.

You feel heavy in his hold, your eyes fluttering close, hand sliding and falling on the ground.

No.

No, no, no!

His eyes wide with shock, with horror, with panic, Gojo tries to get you to wake up- because that can't be it, right? That can't be it- you didn't-

He calls out your name, begging you to open your eyes- even for a few seconds, he didn't even get to say a proper goodbye. He never does, though, since how does one say goodbye to the love of their life?

"Please love-" the god looks so pathetic, so miserable as his head rests on yours, begging you to open your eyes, don't leave him- he's scared.

Why didn't you ask him- ask him to find you again? How can you leave him with those words, breaking his heart more than any other time? It feels wrong; something feels horribly wrong as your body gets colder and colder in his arms.

He stays there with you in his arms, for how long, he doesn't know.

As Gojo stands up, letting your limp body go, two things slip from his hold. One is his lover, and the other is the string of lightning that ties your souls together.

~

Gojo sometimes wonders if your souls are tied to each other because you're in love or if you're in love because of the shared tie.

He doesn't want to find out.

It's the kind of doubt that makes its way into his thoughts only when he has you in his arms like this, your head nuzzling into your lovers' neck, your heartbeats a steady rhythm against his chest.

A rhythm he has come to memorize, searching for it in the eternity you leave behind.

You've always liked staying with him like this; it's one of the minor things that never seems to change about you in every new life you spend together.

Even just the thought of the next life you'll spend together is agonizing for him. It weighs heavy on him, to count the days he'll lose you, to even think about how you felt all those times, limp between his arms, each time body colder than the last.

Please don't leave me. Don't leave me alone.

His grip on your body tightens as his chest does; it's a hold of fear, of longing.

"What's wrong?" You lift your head to meet his blindfolded gaze; his bottom lip captured between his teeth. No matter how much you look at him, it's impossible not to feel awe at Gojo. He's a god, the embodiment of thunder, of power, created to perfection- his only imperfection being a soul tie he shares with a mortal.

Your voice seems to snap him back out of his thoughts, or maybe it's the way your heart pace picking up that startles the man. That alone makes you hurt even more- that he's grown sensitive to your heartbeat after witnessing it die under his touch countless of times.

He doesn't know you know any of this, of course. Gojo doesn't talk about your shared past; he doesn't mention how he had to see you die many times, doesn't let you sense the pain, the fear he goes through.

"Nothing's wrong, love." He caresses your cheek with the back of his knuckle, a playful smile turning his frown upside down. "I was just thinking about stuff."

"What stuff?"

He misses a beat before answering, but he's good at masking it with a chuckle. "God stuff," he sighs exaggeratedly, "tough being the strongest god, you know."

You smile back at him, not pondering on it, but you can't shake off the feeling that he has something bothering him, weighing on the god of thunder.

It reminds you of the night a serpent had visited you, the talk, the truth it gave you. The pain it gifted you.

"This- this isn't the first time we met?" You ask the man who first came as a serpent. He's big, as big as the other gods; he must be one, as well.

Skin littered with tattoos, marks, and scars, scarlet eyes bore into yours that's the exact opposite of your god, but nonetheless, as unearthly beautiful.

"Of course it isn't! He never told you?" The man laughs. Sukuna, he calls himself. "B-but how? Why?" You blurt out, confused, not aware how tight of a fist you've made your hands.

Sukuna quirks a brow at you, openly mocking your naivety. "How else did you think a soultie between a god and a mortal would go?"

"I-" You start to speak, you don't want to talk to him anymore- you have a sick feeling bubbling inside your chest, but he cuts you off. "You're a mortal!" He laughs. "He's a god- immortal. Your lifespan compared to his is like a grain of salt in a beach."

"He never- he never told me we met before." You speak, a mere whisper that's more likely spoken for yourself rather than the god watching you.

"I can see why he does that. Gojo wants to protect his little mortal- he can get a little obsessive at times, too, but that must be a given after watching your lover die."

~

"Gojo?" You call his name one sleepless night, even the sound of rain on your window not enough to lull you into sleep. You don't have to open your eyes to know he's there; he always is when you need him anyway.

The only light source is the lightning twirling in the room; it illuminates his face when Gojo raises his hand to push his hair out of his face. "Can't sleep?"

"No."

"We can talk, if you want." He offers, and you bite your lip before taking the offer. He knows it makes you feel safe when you hear his voice; Gojo always tells you stories and memories he has as a god. "Tell me about Cronus." You usher for him to narrate the same story you've heard many times; it's one you like a lot.

But this time, you have one more reason to ask; to know more about his brother, Sukuna.

Gojo chuckles at the way your eyes focus on his hand dangling from his side, your eyes following the movement of the lightning that ties him to you.

As a cute little smile settles on your futures, one almost looks loving, and Gojo once again finds himself wondering if you'd fall in love with him if your soul hadn't forced you to.

"You seem awfully interested in my stories today," he laughs. "You usually fall asleep as soon as I start talking. I don't even know if I should be offended or not."

"You have a nice voice." You tell him with a smile. "It sounds... familiar."

You don't notice it, but your words seem to alarm the god just a little. He quickly masks it with a smile, leaning forward that your noses almost touch. "Why are you awake today, then? Is something bothering my lightning thief?"

You chuckle at the playful name, but the tension in the air seems to rise as the moment passes. "No, I'm just a little curious. How old are you, Gojo?"

His brows go up at your question, eyes narrowing just a little. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason." You assure him, but it's obvious he doesn't believe it. Still, he answers. "Very old," Gojo smiles. "Maybe as old as time itself."

You nod, turning your eyes to the tie swinging from your pinky. After a few minutes of silence, you're speaking once again. "How long have we had this tie, then?"

~

"Gojo wants to protect his little mortal- he can get a little obsessive at times, too, but that must be a given after watching your lover die." Sukuna smiles; it's sickeningly big, looking at you with expecting, wide eyes. The god gets what he wants.

Your eyes widen in terror, in realization, hand coming up to cover your lips. "He watched me die?" Your words come out as a wretched gasp, it's everything the god wanted, but Sukuna is yet to blow the final blow.

"Of course he did!" He shouts; it's obvious he's having his fun, eyes glinting with the newfound happiness of playing with a mortal. Even better that all he's saying is the truth, too. "Countless of times, even we lost count after millions."

"No- that's not- that can't be true." You squirm- it all makes sense, why he gets so anxious as much as a cut breaks your skin, his over-the-top behavior to get you back healthy when you have a cough. "He has to wait years before you appear back on earth, before he finds you again- just to watch you die."

It hurts, it burns; you never knew words could be so unbearably painful."Why are you telling me this?" You sob, the thought of your lover not leaving your thoughts; he had to endure this all himself, he watched this cruel cycle all his life, he lost you- Gojo lost you and had to move on countless times.

"To help him, of course." The god answers you. "I want to break- free my brother from this curse. Don't you want to, as well?"

free him.

from your love, he means.

"You hurt him." Sukuna adds with a wicked grin. "Each time you die, you hurt him even more. Don't you want to stop it?"

"Yes," you whisper, sobbing as you nod. "Yes- I don't want to see Gojo hurt- please help me, please, please, help me!"

"Of course, I will." The serpent god is generous, after all.

~

Sometimes you wish you never knew.

It's selfish, you know.

But when Sukuna told you how to break the cycle- your first thought was that you wished you never knew. It plagues you, your heart, your mind, your soul- the brutal truth, the simple thing you have to do to save the one person you truly care about.

"I can't do it," you'd told the serpent. "I can't."

He'd laughed at that, as if he had always expected this was your answer, one bordering a shout that told you to run, get out, something is very wrong. "Are you that selfish, mortal girl? You can't do this one little thing- you'd rather let him spend the rest of his life like this?"

He's right, you know. You can't let your lover suffer anymore just because you're afraid.

So you take the knife the serpent has to offer.

~

It's simple. Maybe a little too simple.

All you need to do is die for your love instead of dying despite it.

"This has been an ongoing cycle because your soul refuses to cut your ties with his, fights death for it." Sukuna had tells you as he ushers the blade in your hands. "This time, you're going to cut it yourself."

The metal knife feels cold under your fingers, your lips tremble when you even think of leaving Gojo. For eternity. You don't want to, don't want to lose him, your life, your tie- but it's for him.

As soon as you grip the knife, the serpent leaves for the night, leaving you with the horrible feeling of what's to come.

You drop the knife as if it burns you, metal hitting the stone floor with a loud clang. As if it pulls your energy with it, you fall on the floor, as well, forming a ball as you bury your face in your knees, sobbing mindlessly.

I don't want to die.

"Don't be a crybaby." You tell yourself. "You can- will do it- for Gojo." Your trembling hand reaches for the knife once again, the silver reflecting the moonlight. "For him, for him, for him."

He's the only thought you have as the knife breaks your skin, as you cry out in pain, as warm blood starts coloring your dress dark.

"For him for him for him," you keep repeating. You don't catch the dark chuckle coming from the night, but you do hear Gojo calling your name. The thread of lightning sweeps on the floor, soiled by fresh blood and dirt- it's broken, he realizes in horror.

"What did you do?" Gojo cries as he takes you in between his arms. "What did you do- Y/N, what did you do?"

As you notice how genuinely terrified his beautiful blue eyes look- it's only then you understand just what you caused.

You broke the bond- and it's your fault you'll never meet again.

~

"Can you stop eating, and act like a fucking adult for at least a minute?" You force from behind your teeth. "You're going to blow our cover!"

The man in question doesn't even spare you a glance, rolling his eyes from behind his black eye-band, thinking you can't tell when he does. Or maybe he does know you can see it when he rolls his eyes at you but doesn't care. When he (half)finishes chewing his chips, Gojo mocks you by repeating your words back to you in an exaggerated voice and a snarky smile.

He's more than aware of how your hands twitch beside you to punch him as hard as you can, how you grit your teeth together and narrow your eyes at him. Oh, he annoys you so beautifully.

Your hands itch to squeeze the life out of the blindfolded man as he laughs at your expression and keeps on eating- you can picture your fist hitting his annoyingly perfect white teeth, pushing them in and making him unable to chew anything for a while- ah, good dreams.

Gojo Satoru, the most annoying and unbearable man you were unlucky enough to encounter, and even worse, have him as your partner. Temporary partner, at least, but that single word wasn't enough to soothe your anger after living the worst three weeks of your life.

He's doing it on purpose, of course.

Gojo has always been the type to have fun getting a kick out of people, but with you, both he and you know he's overplaying it.

If he's honest, even Gojo himself doesn't know why he's so hellbent on making your life miserable- it isn't something you did or said, but a guttural feeling that makes the god so uneasy, he has to make you feel that way, as well.

"I don't know why you're so fixated on this stupid plan of yours." He speaks between his chewing, making you wince. "It must be because you're weak."

Oh, to kick him in the balls.

"No, it's cause I'm not an idiot like you who goes into fights without a second thought."

"Just say you're boring and go." He huffs, pulling out his phone and scrolling down, making you huff out in annoyance. In truth, Gojo knows it's the opposite. You're not boring, on the contrary, he finds you a little too amusing.

You have the kind of charm that brings a smile to everyone's face, a spicy personality that makes you argue with people for fun, your kindness that has even Nanami a little softer. You're awfully attractive, have a smudge of dark humor and a loving smile-

You're everything and anything a guy could ever want, and Gojo thinks that's the most annoying thing ever.

He doesn't know what that feeling is that prickles his skin when you accidentally brush against him, that sickness bubbling in his chest when you first met him, smiling brightly.

"I'm not boring, I'm just cautious." You huff at the handsome man that gives you a mocking look. "That's what a boring person would say. I don't need to be cautious, you know, I can beat anyone with ease, they should be cautious of me."

"Of your massive fucking ego, more like." You mumble. "What, are you gonna call yourself a god, too?"

"I might as well be one." He leans forward to you, you can almost smell the chips he'd been eating. He's so close- so pretty up close, that you seem unable to get any words out of your mouth, left speechless, even when he has his eye-band on.

"Wh- what is this?" You stutter, trying to hide how flustered you feel by lashing out. "An extreme case of god complex?"

"No," he laughs, finally pulling back to give you room to breathe. "Just telling the truth."

"Yeah, whatever." You turn your eyes away from the handsome man, pure-white hair reflecting the red and green light coming from the street, his smile making you shiver. "Let's just get this over with."

~

You fought well.

Gojo has to admit you did, even though you're a little roughed up, you took high-grade curses by yourself without being much of an obstacle for him, and that isn't something Gojo gets to feel during a fight with a partner.

His gaze falls on you, sitting next to him on the bench as you wait for your ride to take you back to jujutsu high. You have your arms wrapped around you, not much to shield you from the chilly breeze of the night. Cuts and bruises litter your arms, even though nothing to worry about, the sight still has Gojo feeling somewhat uneasy.

You're unaware of Gojo's gaze, fighting the exhaustion that pulls you to a deep slumber. Your head lolls dangerously close to Gojo; he finds himself holding his breath as he can feel yours fanning against his neck. You look so vulnerable, cute, even, without that disgusted frown you have whenever you talk with him.

Minutes feel like hours as Gojo can only try and busy himself with his phone, leg bouncing as he waits for the shuttle to come already. As he decides the best option is to wake you up, he feels a weight falling on his shoulder.

He freezes.

Finally having somewhere you can rest your head on, Gojo feels you shuffle even closer to him in your half-asleep state, your face almost touching his neck, your steady breaths making him shiver. You... you fit so nicely against his chest, as if you were made to be there, it feels so right, makes him feel so ease, he can just rest his head atop yours and fall asleep as well, a slumber he hasn't head in thousands of years, maybe.

He suddenly sprints on his feet.

The sudden movement jerks you awake, confused eyes finding the frantic-looking man standing before you. "Is the ride-"

"Don't!" He almost shouts at you; it's the first time you've seen him so serious- so worried. "Don't touch me."

Touch him?

It takes you a few seconds to understand what he means, feeling hurt coiling in you when you do. "O-oh," you can only whisper, "I'm sorry- I didn't mean to, I just fell asleep."

He still doesn't look convinced; you notice his hands are trembling.

Oh.

You don't say anything, couldn't even if you tried to, afraid the tears welling in your eyes will spill if you do. You knew Gojo hated you, he made it as clear as he could, but you never thought- he hated you this much.

Too proud to apologize, he stands there awkwardly, can't bring himself to sit back down as you wait in silence for the rest of the night.

"Oh, thank god." He hears you mutter as a black car turns around the corner and comes near you. You jump on your legs, rushing to the door so you can get in as soon as possible when you hear him call your name.

"I-" Gojo tries to speak, hand resting on the back of his neck, face tinted pink due to cold, or maybe it's something else, but you shake your head no. "There's nothing to explain."

When he opens the door after you, you have your head resting against the window, eyes once again falling weak to exhaustion, but as soon as he gets in, you jerk yourself awake, sitting upright without giving him a second glance.

~

"Is everything okay between you and Gojo-sensei?" Itadori asks a while after that night you went with Gojo. "You've been acting weird ever since you went to kick some curse ass."

You snort. If even Itadori caught up, you really must be obvious, you think. "Nothing out of the ordinary," you shrug, taking a sip from your coffee to give yourself some time. Even thinking about the incident has you cringing internally. "You know, the usual. We never liked each other."

"Oh?" He blinks. "I thought you were good friends?"

"Good friends?!" You almost spit out your coffee. "How did you get that idea?"

The pink-haired boy shrugs. "I don't know, it just feels like it. Gojo-sensei works best with you and you with him, you tease each other a lot, too. You seem in sync."

Sync. It's the last word you'd think of to explain your relationship with the man in question.

But Itadori is right. Something did change between you two. Gojo doesn't tease you anymore; on the contrary, he keeps his distance from you as much as he can, not talking to you if he doesn't need to-, and truthfully, that makes your wound ache just a little more.

You're not one to say you enjoyed him teasing you, but this feels a lot more awkward, and watching him be so at ease, have fun and laugh with anyone else has you feeling a little- ahh, you don't even know at this point.

"Huh? I have to go." Itadori jumps on his feet. "Thank you for the coffee, sensei!" He doesn't forget to shout, smiling as he sprints down the corridor. You hear him voice out a small oh on his way down, but you think he probably stumbled over his untied laces.

A sigh leaves your lips as you rub your temples, turning back to your computer to finish your paperwork.

"In sync, he says." A voice speaks behind you, making you jump in your seat.

"Shit!" You curse as you turn to the door, your eyes falling on the last person you'd want to see, leaning on the door frame with a pink bag hanging from his fingers. "Oh, did I scare you?" He grins, and you can't not roll your eyes.

"No, that's a new way of greeting people, haven't you heard?" Your answer makes him huff out a laugh as he casually walks in and plops himself on the seat Itadori just left.

"As humorous as always, I see."

"As annoying as always for you, as well. What are you doing here?"

"Am I not welcome?" He quirks a brow; he's wearing one of his sunglasses today, the crystal-blue of his eyes peek from where the black-glass can't cover, leaving you in a vulnerable state you don't want to be in.

"Not even a bit."

Gojo grins.

"I come with a peace offering, though." He tells you as he hands you the pink bag he was holding. You take it from the man suspiciously; it's warm, smelling like a bakery would fresh in the morning. "Doughnuts."

When you stand there, not sure how to proceed as you hold the bag in your hands, Gojo raises a brow mockingly. "Did my generosity leave you frozen?"

"I feel like I shouldn't eat without seeing you eat one first." You ignore his remark, peeking in the bag with a suspicious frown.

"Oh come on!" Gojo lets out a laugh. "Am I really that unreliable?" He laughs even more when you don't miss a beat before answering. "You are."

"Okay, okay." He shakes his head from side to side. "I was going to eat some, anyway."

He reaches in the bag, picking one from the many, bringing it to his mouth when you-

"Wait!"

Gojo's hand freezes when you shout, eyes wide in fear. "What?" His brows furrow, inspecting the doughnut. "Is there something-" he's still speaking as you make a reach for it, taking the white powdered doughnut from his hands in a swift motion. "I'll eat this one." You grin.

There are a few minutes of silence as Gojo tries to process what happened, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses as he smiles. "Oh, you little-"

"Huh? Can't hear you from how delicious this is."

He stays quiet, and he's grateful you don't notice the smile, a genuine, almost loving smile he has as he watches you gulp down the dessert. Gojo's quick to wipe it off his face, but the feeling isn't that easily suppressed. You raise your gaze back to the white-haired man as you take a sip of your coffee to finish it off. You have to admit the man has taste when it comes to desserts.

"I'll take that my peace offering is accepted?"

"I'll think about it." You shrug, mood fouling as soon as you remember why he's here. "Why come with one, anyway? You never wanted to be friends with me, what's with the sudden change of heart?"

He ponders over your question for a while, eyes darting around the room and finding you again. "Felt like it." He simply states, not expecting you to snort.

"That might be the worst possible answer you could've given."

You feel your heart missing a beat when Gojo grins, giving you a look over his glasses, meeting you with the most beautiful blue gaze. "It is, isn't it? But it is the truth."

~

"For fucks sake- that hurts!" Gojo whines for the thousandth time that night, and you ignore it just as many times.

"Y/N!" He groans, and you finally let go of Gojo's hair strands, sticky, green, and gross with some suspicious liquid a curse threw at him.

He had begged you to help him wash it off- by help, he meant whining like a baby each time you even put pressure on his oh-so-precious hair.

"Oh, shut it already, you big baby." You murmur, your voice not doing the best job at hiding your smile, so you turn your back at the man watching you take some more cream in your hands.

"Where did that god complex go, anyway? You were the one bragging about being a god, weren't you?"

"And?" Gojo huffs, true-blue eyes staring at you from the mirror with a childlike pout. "can't gods feel pain?"

You let out a laugh, turning your focus back on his head and pushing it downwards so you can reach the crown. Even while sitting, you're almost the same height, you realize. Tall motherfucker.

"I don't know, you tell me. I'm not as much of an asshole to claim to be a god." Your answer seems to amuse him, but his chuckle cuts off with yet another whine.

"Ow!" He frowns when you slide your fingers on a section of strands, pulling the green substance off of them. "Can't you be at least a little more gentle?"

"No, but I can just stop and leave you to it." You roll your eyes. "This isn't fun for me either."

"I bet it isn't." Gojo mocks you with a look sent your way through the mirror. "How can spending time with me not be fun?"

"Are you aware how bad you smell, Satoru?" You mutter mindlessly, not realizing how easy his first name rolls off your tongue. You're too focused on working a stubborn gulp of green off of his hair as Gojo stills under your touch at the sound of his name, eyes widening and heart missing a beat.

"What?" You ask crossly as he gulps loudly, brows furrowing. "Are you still whining?"

"Okay, okay, I'll shut up." He mutters, watching you smile at yourself proudly at making the Gojo Satoru retreat. He deems it's endearing. He thinks you have the prettiest smile. The funniest reactions. The most beautiful smell. A kind touch.

Even as you pull on his hair so that he might end up bald at the end of it, Gojo relishes in your touch, loves it, craves it, misses it. Fuck- he hates it.

Gojo isn't an idiot; he's lived far too long not to know what's happening, what he's feeling. And somehow, that makes it worse.

"Wow, never seen the Gojo Satoru stay quiet for more than five minutes." You tease the man, pulling on his hair rather harshly to make him jump in his seat. You can't help the giggle that makes its way out of your lips when he sends you a cross look.

"Trying to cope with pain, thank you very much." He mutters, but there's a smile on his lips, as well.

You're a little surprised as he keeps his quiet for the rest of the operation, leaving you two to a peaceful silence as you work your way on his hair, the scary kind of intimacy only shared between-

"And- I think it's done!" You exclaim in victory as you let go of Gojo's hair-conditioner-soaked head. "Go wash the excess or something, and the rest is up to you."

Gojo is leaning over the sink as you talk, inspecting himself on your mirror. "Oh," you say before leaving him to his narcissistic bullshit. "Never call me for something like this again."

"What?" He gasps in fake hurt. "You'd rather me ask Nanami?"

"No, I'd rather you shave your head." You smile as you close the door from behind you. "Oh, Y/N, don't forget!" Gojo shouts after you. "Don't forget our date!"

Your date.

You hated how -despite knowing it was Gojo being a teasing asshole- hearing that alone made your heart skip a beat. It wasn't anything that even resembled a date, just meeting the new first-year student, but Gojo liked to tease.

When you leave him alone, Gojo groans after you.

Loudly, too.

He finds himself rubbing his pinky; it's a nervous habit that calms him off, that reminds him of the old love the God used to have.

Used to, he reminds himself.

It took him hundreds, thousands of years to bury this feeling that was now resurfacing- no, this was different.

His soul was tied to another back then; he had his other half, his one and only love. What he felt for you was nothing but a mere attraction, if he could even call it that. There was no way Gojo would fall for yet another mortal.

...

right?

right.

~

"Gojo," you whisper, voice strained. "Gojo, I can't go on."

Your hushed whisper hits the cave walls, blending with the sound of water dripping. When you try to take another step, the pain from your most definitely broken ankle jolts up your body, making you cry out. "I'm sorry- I can't go on, let alone fight." You tell the man again, who is also hurt, trying to get you to walk with him- cmon, just a little more.

For the first time you've seen him, Gojo looks desperate. His eyes are wide frantically, darting around the dirty walls for an escape route, but he knows- Gojo knows he can't escape.

He could've if he was alone, or maybe if he just had you-

But not with the new student in there.

He groans, the blood he's losing making it harder to feel warm. Oddly enough, his hand that holds you feels warmer than any other part of his body.

But here you were, both hurt, not vitally but enough cause one.

"Fuck- just hold on a little more, Y/N." Gojo holds you steady when you stumble over your own legs. "I promise I'll get us out of here."

"No, I-" You try to reason, but it's apparent the man falls deaf to your cries, stuck in his head to find something. Some way out.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. This day was only about meeting the new student and teasing you the whole day, and you weren't supposed to be in this cave; you weren't supposed to fight curses- the student wasn't supposed to be captured by them, either.

"Gojo there is no other way!" You cry out, hoping he doesn't catch on the slight tremble in your voice. "You have to save the kid, and I can't go on." When he shakes his head denyingly, unconsciously nuzzling his face to the touch you have on his face, you smile bitterly. "I can take care of myself, you have to go."

"Gojo!" You call out once again, your hand sliding up his shoulder. "Gojo fucking- listen to me!" It's only when your hand cups his cheek you pull him out of his panicked haze, the bluest gaze finding you. "You have to-"

"No."

"Leave me here." You finish your sentence, sending him a cross glare. "No," he repeats, the grip he has on your arm tightening, warning you not to press it, he won't listen, but you're as stubborn as him, aren't you?

You take a shaky breath when the handsome man finally shakes his head, mirroring the bitter smile you have on your lips. It's such an intimate moment, one you've never experience with anyone, and certainly not with him, but somehow, it feels almost nostalgic. A feeling of sadness lingers on both your chests as Gojo finally nods at you, your hand falling off his face.

"I'll come back for you." He mutters as he starts walking, speaking without thinking, "you hear me? I won't leave you here."

It hurts- for some reason, the words he speaks are painful, more than your wounds, more than the hopeless situation you're in. "Of course, you will." You want to answer. "You always do." Words tingling on the tip of your tongue, you choose to bite them, instead.

What is this feeling? This feeling that has your body shaking, making you tremble with sobs? You don't know. It feels like a terrible longing to the man that had just left you, like you've been waiting for him thousands of years, a burn of grief in your body that makes you want to cry out in pain. It's like you're losing something- like- like--

"Come find me, Gojo." Your voice bounces off the walls, now too far away from the God.

come find me.

Come find me.

He keeps hearing the sentence in his head, feels so strangely familiar to-

you.

He stills in his place, the god of thunder, when his body remembers before his heart does, remembering your touch from thousands, millions of years ago, identical to the way you had just held him. With a cry of relief, of fear settling in the back of his throat, Gojo turns back around- running to you, to find you, one last time.

You're back, it took him too long to understand, but you're back, you held your promise, his lightning thief, no matter how far he runs, you'll always find him.

Even without a tie that binds your souls.

Gojo finally has an answer to his question.

Are your souls tied to each other because you're in love, or are you in love because of the shared tie?

[agentrouka-blog]

Tyrion and Tysha murder mystery hints - first mention in the text

This thing just keeps tugging at me, and this recent thread made me ambitious to examine it in more detail. So I’ll look at hints for an even darker edge to the story of Tyrion and Tysha in the parts of the text that actually mention her.

Since I have limited time, I’ll do several posts. This one is about how we learn about Tysha in A Game of Thrones.

We head into AGOT, Tyrion VI via a chapter transition from AGOT, Jon V, where Jon talks Maester Aemon into choosing Samwell as his assistant. In the presence of his current assistant Chett, who - it is revealed later in the ASOS Prologue - murdered a girl he liked for rejecting him.

Chett gave a nasty laugh. “I’ve seen what happens to soft lordlings when they’re put to work. Set them to churning butter and their hands blister and bleed. Give them an axe to split logs, and they cut off their own foot.”

“I know one thing Sam could do better than anyone.”

“Yes?” Maester Aemon prompted.

Jon glanced warily at Chett, standing beside the door, his boils red and angry. “He could help you,” he said quickly. “He can do sums, and he knows how to read and write. I know Chett can’t read, and Clydas has weak eyes. Sam read every book in his father’s library. He’d be good with the ravens too. Animals seem to like him. Ghost took to him straight off. There’s a lot he could do, besides fighting. The Night’s Watch needs every man. Why kill one, to no end? Make use of him instead.”

Maester Aemon closed his eyes, and for a brief moment Jon was afraid that he had gone to sleep. Finally he said, “Maester Luwin taught you well, Jon Snow. Your mind is as deft as your blade, it would seem.”

“Does that mean …?”

“It means I shall think on what you have said,” the maester told him firmly. “And now, I believe I am ready to sleep. Chett, show our young brother to the door.”

(AGOT, Jon V)

The chapter is followed by AGOT, Tyrion VI, where Tyrion and Bronn rest on the high road after being kicked out of the Gates of the Moon, after he won his trial by combat:

They had taken shelter beneath a copse of aspens just off the high road. Tyrion was gathering dead-wood while their horses took water from a mountain stream. He stooped to pick up a splintered branch and examined it critically. “Will this do? I am not practiced at starting fires. Morrec did that for me.” 

The entire conversation between Jon, Aemon and Chett sets up Tyrion. A lordling, bad with manual labor, but smart and a reader. Yet we know he is no Samwell Tarly in his sensibilities, and the last sentence is dedicated to Chett.

Chett...

The only women Chett had ever known were the whores he’d bought in Mole’s Town. When he’d been younger, the village girls took one look at his face, with its boils and its wen, and turned away sickened. The worst was that slattern Bessa. She’d spread her legs for every boy in Hag’s Mire so he’d figured why not him too? He even spent a morning picking wildflowers when he heard she liked them, but she’d just laughed in his face and told him she’d crawl in a bed with his father’s leeches before she’d crawl in one with him. She stopped laughing when he put his knife in her. That was sweet, the look on her face, so he pulled the knife out and put it in her again. When they caught him down near Sevenstreams, old Lord Walder Frey hadn’t even bothered to come himself to do the judging. He’d sent one of his bastards, that Walder Rivers, and the next thing Chett had known he was walking to the Wall with that foul-smelling black devil Yoren. To pay for his one sweet moment, they took his whole life.

But now he meant to take it back, and Craster’s women too. That twisted old wildling has the right of it. If you want a woman to wife you take her, and none of this giving her flowers so that maybe she don’t notice your bloody boils. Chett didn’t mean to make that mistake again.

Like Tyrion, Chett is rejected by others for his appearance, has a violent father and a lot of resentment that comes out in the shape of murdering “slatterns”. He also mixes it up with the idea of marriage. Like Tyrion, the cold night reminds Chett of the girl in his past.

He could see Bessa’s face floating before him. It wasn’t the knife I wanted to put in you, he wanted to tell her. I picked you flowers, wild roses and tansy and goldencups, it took me all morning. His heart was thumping like a drum, so loud he feared it might wake the camp. Ice caked his beard all around his mouth. Where did that come from, with Bessa? Whenever he’d thought of her before, it had only been to remember the way she’d looked, dying. What was wrong with him?

Chett killed her in a rage, but the truth is layered and haunts him.

But back to Tyrion.

Tyrion VI emphasizes Tyrion’s cleverness as he converses with Bronn, explaining his strategy in the Vale for how to steal Bronn from Cat’s service and make use of his practical talents, and his strategy for their travels in the Mountains of the Moon. Tyrion talks, Bronn listens and agrees to serve him.

The point is, Tyrion is very observant and smart. Reader, trust Tyrion’s judgent and words, is the message. Then we get more personal.

As they light a fire and eat a goat, Tyrion remembers his goaler Mord who treated him cruelly in the sky cells.

(Mord, btw, translates to murder in many a germanic/Scandinvian language.)

“And yet you gave the turnkey a purse of gold,” Bronn said.

“A Lannister always pays his debts.”

Even Mord had scarcely believed it when Tyrion tossed him the leather purse. The gaoler’s eyes had gone big as boiled eggs as he yanked open the drawstring and beheld the glint of gold. “I kept the silver,” Tyrion had told him with a crooked smile, “but you were promised the gold, and there it is.” It was more than a man like Mord could hope to earn in a lifetime of abusing prisoners. “And remember what I said, this is only a taste. If you ever grow tired of Lady Arryn’s service, present yourself at Casterly Rock, and I’ll pay you the rest of what I owe you.” With golden dragons spilling out of both hands, Mord had fallen to his knees and promised that he would do just that.

The image of coins spilling from hands is picked up later.

Tyrion was hoping to lure in the mountain clans, but they take their time showing up, so he tries to be even more conspicuous.

Tyrion chuckled. “Then we ought to sing and send them fleeing in terror.” He began to whistle a tune.

He chooses the “terrible” tune himself. It leads straight to his memory:

“Myrish. ‘The Seasons of My Love.’ Sweet and sad, if you understand the words. The first girl I ever bedded used to sing it, and I’ve never been able to put it out of my head.” Tyrion gazed up at the sky. It was a clear cold night and the stars shone down upon the mountains as bright and merciless as truth. “I met her on a night like this,” he heard himself saying. “Jaime and I were riding back from Lannisport when we heard a scream, and she came running out into the road with two men dogging her heels, shouting threats.

Myrish, as in the Myrish lens. The object Lysa sends Catelyn, which has a false bottom hiding the real message in a secret language, a message of murder and conspiracy. A secret language, a foreign language, like Mord.

"A lens is an instrument to help us see."     (AGOT, Catelyn II)

Bright and merciless as truth.

My brother unsheathed his sword and went after them, while I dismounted to protect the girl. She was scarcely a year older than I was, dark-haired, slender, with a face that would break your heart. It certainly broke mine. Lowborn, half-starved, unwashed … yet lovely. They’d torn the rags she was wearing half off her back, so I wrapped her in my cloak while Jaime chased the men into the woods. By the time he came trotting back, I’d gotten a name out of her, and a story. She was a crofter’s child, orphaned when her father died of fever, on her way to … well, nowhere, really.

Where Tysha went will become a theme. @une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir examines that beautifully here.

But even right here, the tone is ominous, and GRRM goes out of his way to emphasize it with the ellipses.

We get the story of Jaime chasing after the outlaws and Tyrion and Tysha falling into bed at an inn after drinking, eating and talking, and the story of their marriage, and its end.

Tyrion was surprised at how desolate it made him feel to say it, even after all these years. Perhaps he was just tired. “That was the end of my marriage.” He sat up and stared at the dying fire, blinking at the light.

“He sent the girl away?”

“He did better than that,” Tyrion said. “First he made my brother tell me the truth. The girl was a whore, you see. Jaime arranged the whole affair, the road, the outlaws, all of it. He thought it was time I had a woman. He paid double for a maiden, knowing it would be my first time.

NOTHING about this makes sense, which is ridiculous when you consider we were just hammered over the head with how smart Tyrion is supposed to be.

Since when is Jaime prone to setting up complex schemes? Why would feel the need to push Tyrion to have sex at thirteen, and why would be ever do it this way? Why would be hire him a virgin for his first time? We don’t question it because GRRM has told us not to question the smartiepants. But as we later learn, that was all. not. true. So maybe other things aren’t true, either.

“After Jaime had made his confession, to drive home the lesson, Lord Tywin brought my wife in and gave her to his guards. They paid her fair enough. A silver for each man, how many whores command that high a price? He sat me down in the corner of the barracks and bade me watch, and at the end she had so many silvers the coins were slipping through her fingers and rolling on the floor, she …” The smoke was stinging his eyes. Tyrion cleared his throat and turned away from the fire, to gaze out into darkness. “Lord Tywin had me go last,” he said in a quiet voice. “And he gave me a gold coin to pay her, because I was a Lannister, and worth more.”

The parallels to his memory of Mord are striking. Silver and gold, coins spilling from hands, a “price” beyond expectation... and a promise of something very sinister at the next meeting.

After a time he heard the noise again, the rasp of steel on stone as Bronn sharpened his sword. “Thirteen or thirty or three, I would have killed the man who did that to me.”

1) Nice how Bronn makes it about Tyrion’s pain. Tysha’s pain does not exist to them. And so the reader is also drawn away from it. Poor Tyrion.

2) Another reference to killing. It foreshadows Tyrion’s murder of Tywin over this very matter, of course, but at the same time...

Tyrion gestured impatiently with the bow. “Tysha. What did you do with her, after my little lesson?”

“I don’t recall.”

“Try harder. Did you have her killed?”

His father pursed his lips. “There was no reason for that, she’d learned her place … and had been well paid for her day’s work, I seem to recall. I suppose the steward sent her on her way. I never thought to inquire.”

“On her way where?”

“Wherever whores go.”

Tyrion’s finger clenched.  (ASOS, Tyrion XI)

I don’t think it can be emphasized enough that this happens right after he murders Shae. Shae the whore.

“Did you ever like it?” He cupped her cheek, remembering all the times he had done this before. All the times he’d slid his hands around her waist, squeezed her small firm breasts, stroked her short dark hair, touched her lips, her cheeks, her ears. All the times he had opened her with a finger to probe her secret sweetness and make her moan. “Did you ever like my touch?”

“More than anything,” she said, “my giant of Lannister.”

That was the worst thing you could have said, sweetling.

Tyrion slid a hand under his father’s chain, and twisted. The links tightened, digging into her neck. “For hands of gold are always cold, but a woman’s hands are warm,” he said. He gave cold hands another twist as the warm ones beat away his tears.

And just before he asks him about Tysha, Tywin assures him he was meant to be sent to the Wall. Whether or not that’s a lie, we’re looking at another Chett parallel. Murdering a “slattern”, facing life at the Wall.

We close Tyrion’s memory of Tysha:

Tyrion swung around to face him. “You may get that chance one day.  Remember what I told you. A Lannister always pays his debts.” He yawned. “I think I will try and sleep. Wake me if we’re about to die.”

He rolled himself up in the shadowskin and shut his eyes. The ground was stony and cold, but after a time Tyrion Lannister did sleep. He dreamt of the sky cell. This time he was the gaoler, not the prisoner, big, with a strap in his hand, and he was hitting his father, driving him back, toward the abyss …

Like Chett, his thoughts return to the girl. He turns into the goaler, Mord, his rage comes through, his capability of great violence. In ASOS, his lashing out at Tywin is preceeded by directing his violence toward the “whore” who allegedly betrayed him. Which is preceeded by a truth about Tysha.

“Thank you?” Tyrion’s voice was choked. “He gave her to his guards. A barracks full of guards. He made me … watch.” Aye, and more than watch. I took her too … my wife …

“I never knew he would do that. You must believe me.”

“Oh, must I?” Tyrion snarled. “Why should I believe you about anything, ever? She was my wife!”

“Tyrion—”

He hit him. It was a slap, backhanded, but he put all his strength into it, all his fear, all his rage, all his pain. Jaime was squatting, unbalanced. The blow sent him tumbling backward to the floor. “I … I suppose I earned that.”

“Oh, you’ve earned more than that, Jaime. You and my sweet sister and our loving father, yes, I can’t begin to tell you what you’ve earned. But you’ll have it, that I swear to you. A Lannister always pays his debts.” Tyrion waddled away, almost stumbling over the turnkey again in his haste. Before he had gone a dozen yards, he bumped up against an iron gate that closed the passage. Oh, gods. It was all he could do not to scream.

(ASOS, Tyrion XI)

The turnkey here is interesting. Once again, Tysha’s memory is associated with a cell and the presence of a turnkey. In his anguished memory, Tyrion almost stumbles over him. The last turnkey was Mord.

So, just looking at Tysha’s first mention, there are so many ominous connections. Murder murder murder.

The chapter ends with Tyrion meeting and “hiring” the mountain clans. How? To avenge himself on Lysa Arryn, he promises them the entire Vale. Really driving home that “a Lannister pays his debts” is all about disproportionate retribution.

A few chapter later, to create some distance to this dark tale, Tyrion meets Shae and sets up to re-create his entire Tysha trauma. The two are intertwined, so why should their ends not be?

That’s fodder for a different post, though.

[louiseleblancdiggory]

“Why are you lying to me?” / “Do you even still love me?” for Nessian please? 🙏 I love your writing and your blog btw

Thank you!! I decided to take a break from Rowaelin and write this for Nessian. A Rowaelin chapter of Covert Fuck Buddies will come out later, but for now enjoy this bitter Nessian angst. This is heavily dedicated to Mari who has been pestering me about this certain trope. I hope she suffers.

Word count: 1203

Masterlist

Love ashes

--

Nesta was so, so very tired.

Her heels were killing her feet, her shirt sticking to her back. The heat was terrible in this part of the year, and she just wanted autumn to arrive so she could wear her favorite clothes again without having the feeling of melting inside them.

She knew that once she got home, the heat would finally relent. She and Cassian kept the AC turned on during the whole summer, so arriving home should be a blessing right now.

But it wasn’t.

She didn’t want to face Cassian. Didn’t want to talk to him.

Nesta scoffed, as if they would talk. Everything they had been doing these days was either arguing or standing in silence in different parts of their house. It was really bad. Not in the way it had been when they were younger, when their fights would turn into heated nights or arguments would turn into memories that they would laugh later on. Fighting with Cassian in the past always made her burn, always made all her focus and emotions zero on him.

Now she was just tired, drained.

She remembered the summer when they met ten years ago. Both of them were only fourteen, and summer at that age didn’t mean sticky clothes and aching feet. No, it meant lake swimming and late nights trying to catch fireflies with their friends. Even at that age they would fight, but it was always something that made their relationship more interesting, more daring. More them.

But not anymore. It hadn’t been like that for a while now.

When Nesta arrived home, she took her time leaving the car and entering their house. She half prayed that Cassian wouldn’t be there, that they wouldn’t need to talk right now.

“How was your day?” His voice shattered all her prayers, sending disappointment through her veins. The first time she realized that Cassian’s voice didn’t bring her warmth anymore, only a slight pang of disappointment, her heart had cracked.

“Fine.” She said, flatly. When they first moved together, Nesta would have sat on his lap and told him about her day, about her classes and internship. Not anymore.

“Nesta.” His voice was clipped. “Do you think we should talk?”

She did, but talking would make everything more real, so she lied. “No.”

Despite how far from each other they had become, Cass still knew when she was lying or hiding something. “Why are you lying to me?”

Nesta looked him in the eyes, saw the exhaustion there. She wasn’t the only one drained.

All she wanted to do was to go to their room and lay in bed, close her eyes and remember of other summers, better summers. Wanted to close her eyes and remember when both of them burned with so much love it almost hurt.

She wanted that love back. Wanted it so, so bad. She wanted to look at him and feel her whole body relaxing, her mind becoming happier. Wanted to feel the want to touching him in public, little things such as holding hands or taking a strand of hair out of his face. She had been so closed off to the whole world and when Cassian came breaking down every barrier, she thought he was the one. That he would be the one forever.

Until he wasn’t.

“Do you love me?” She said, her voice no louder than a whisper but she knew he would hear.

“What?”

“Do you even still love me, Cass?” Her head was pounding, and suddenly she just wanted to get over with it. Say everything and move on.

“Do you?” His voice sounded broken, and in that moment Nesta had her answer.

She was certain she could hear her heart breaking. Breaking because she had loved this man and he had loved her back and it had been beautiful. They had broken each other’s barriers and stood together for ten years. Cassian knew all of her secrets and Nesta knew all of his fears. They were meant to be forever, to be able to stand against any challenge.

They just never considered that the challenge would be them falling out of love.

She tried to keep her cool mask, to bring back that indifference from when they hadn’t start dating yet, but she knew he could see right through her.

What a strange thing, to have the person that knows you the most not love you anymore.

“I’ll always have love for you, Cass.” Her voice was breaking and she hated it. Hated the pain, the vulnerability.

“But you don’t love me anymore.” It wasn’t a question, but she answered anyways.

“No. No, I don’t.” Her eyes were burning, and her throat twisted. “I wish I did.”

He nodded, staring at nothing. Both of them stayed silent for minutes, each one lost in their own minds. Their own feelings that didn’t belong to the other one anymore.

Nesta wondered when it happened. In which part of the way she had stopped loving him. She wondered if it was when she woke up in the morning and didn’t smile when she saw his face. Wondered if it was during that party when she saw a woman trying to flirt with Cass and she didn’t feel an ounce of jealousy, felt nothing at all.

Nesta wondered if it had been a slow process, or a sudden moment that she hand’t realized that the love was dead.

“I wish I did.” She repeated, and his eyes turned back to her. “I wish I still looked at you and felt as if I was burning. That I still heard the sound of your voice and all my nerves would relax. I wish that when I thought of home, you would still be the first thing that came to my mind.”

He nodded, eyes watering. “I wish that too, Ness. I wish we would still smile at each other for no reason, that we would still laugh at our inside jokes. I wish we would build a family together, and be in love forever as we thought we would.”

She didn’t realize she was crying until a single drop fell on her shirt. “It’s over, isn’t it? I thought you were the love of my life and now it’s just…” She looked around their house, the life they had started building. “Over.”

He sighed and got up, walking up to her. Wordlessly, he hugged her and she laid her face on his chest. “You were the love of my life, and I was the love of yours. But you are not going to be the only love of my life, and I won’t be the only one in yours, Nesta Archeron.”

A single sob broke out of her. “You won’t be the father of my kids, Cass, but you’re definitely going to be the story of my first love and heartbreak that I tell them.”

He kissed the top of her head and they held onto each other for a little while longer, as if they could still savor the last ashes of that burning love.

And when they felt their tears washing the ashes away, when they felt their sighs blowing those ashes away, Nesta and Cassian let go.

Tags:

@maastrash @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jlinez @courtofjurdan @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ladywitchling @morganofthewildfire @queen-of-glass

[yourneighborhooddisaster]

kings of unconventional (part three) ROMAN

Again! Late as fuck! I’m sorry, I had no motivation for what felt like forever. Hey, listen to Experience by Ludovico Einaudi while you’re writing btw. Also the thing abt me getting an AO3 account? The stupid blocker on my computer that I can’t figure out how to turn off deemed the website unworthy, and frankly I don’t have the energy.

Warnings: Kissing I suppose? I consider it a blessing but whatever. It’s kind of just a fluffy meet cute.

Tagging: @emiisanxious @genderfluidmoma @my-life-is-an-artistic-mess @penguins-penguins @jinxedrose101 Imma cross my fingers and hope I tagged everyone.

Still short, but it’s a tiny bit longer this time! Yay! Fic under the cut.

ROMAN inhaled the familiar scent of orange aerosol as he checked into the bookshop as a volunteer. Though he wasn’t a big reader, he came in on Thursdays to help supervise the meetings of Inqueery, a new book club that was quickly gaining speed due to its focus on LGBT+ content from all different types of genres. It was designed to help curious or queer youth label themselves if they preferred and to introduce people to media put out by the LGBT+ community.

Roman knew he was polyamorous and gay already, and he was very comfortable with his sexuality. Although, it helped a bit when your destiny was written across your arm. Many people came into these meetings simply to meet people and make sense of their soulmark. It was especially hard for kids with gender neutral names like ‘Alex’ or ‘Riley.’ But since it was technically still a book club, Roman came here to help guide the curious and confused so readers could discuss their books in peace. Mr. Sanders used to do it, but as he got older, he split his time between resting and keeping his business afloat.

He got a head start on changing the displays as he waited for Joan, an official hire. What Roman liked about Mr. Sanders’s Books is that every other day, the displays rotated, so lesser known authors and books got their chance in the spotlight. Even if it was some extra work. He had just finished with all of the display shelves when someone tapped him on the arm, prompting him to turn around.

“Well hello there, cutie.” In front of him, a curly haired young man with square glasses smiled brightly. He proudly sported a rainbow pin, a he/him pin, and a poly pride pin, all attached to his gray cardigan that fell loosely around his shoulders. He beamed at the compliment. (And blushed a little. Roman considered that a win.)

“Hi! I was wondering if you knew where the sign up sheet for Inqueery was? I can’t seem to find it. I’m new in town, so I was hoping I could make friends.” Well wasn’t he precious. Roman felt his heart melting into a puddle of goo.

“Of course! It’s actually behind the counter, which is why you couldn’t find it. There’s a bit of a waiting list simply due to funding. Unless you can buy your own book, in which case you can join as soon as they start a new one.” Roman grabbed the clipboard and a blue marker from under the counter. “Here you go sir! Oh, hey Joan! I finished the displays, so I’ll be out of your hair in a bit.” Their fond smile made Roman grin as they passed him to go to the back. “So yeah, just sign right here.”

“Thanks! I can buy my own book, which means that I check off this box here, right?” Roman nodded and watched as Patton signed his-

Patton.

“I’m Roman and I really want to kiss you right now,” he blurted like an absolute idiot. But Patton looked up, nearly in awe. They pulled their sleeves up simultaneously, and true enough, Patton’s name was in simple blue half cursive, nearly identical to his signature on the sign up sheet. Roman’s name was in big red letters on Patton’s arm, fancy swirls underlining it. But directly underneath, ‘Logan’ was written in scribbly dark blue handwriting, just barely decipherable. Both ‘Virgil’ and ‘Janus’ were still in neat black print. “You met him? What’s he like?” Patton giggled.

“He kind of ran away from me in a moment of gay panic. But he complimented me first, and he seemed really sweet.” Roman’s face must have fallen slightly because Patton leaned over the counter and booped his nose, making him snort with laughter. “We’ll find him again, don’t you worry. We’re meant to be together.” Roman leaned over the counter as well, getting much farther forward than Patton had.

“It’s destiny.” Patton’s eyes widened and his face reddened, but he captured Roman’s lips in a soft, sweet kiss. They both closed their eyes and melted, Roman bringing his hand up to caress Patton’s cheek. No fireworks went off, but it was like burying your face in a ton of cotton candy at the fair - sugary and exhilarating. His mind traveled to the fair as they deepened the kiss. God, that’d be a beautiful date. He imagined the food, the ferris wheel, the bumper cars - but the loud crash that sounded wasn’t in his head. Roman broke away from the kiss and saw an absolutely mortified young man desperately picking up way too many books for one person to carry.

“Oh, are you okay?” Roman had officially decided Patton was perfect as he rushed to the young man’s side. Roman quickly followed, putting stacks of books on the counter. He offered out his hand, and the guy shakily accepted it.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, just a little shaken-” His eyes dropped to Roman’s arm and his jaw went slack. Roman and Patton followed his gaze. In purple, relatively neat print. Virgil. “Up.” Virgil scrambled to his feet. “So you’re...“ He pulled up his sleeve. “Roman and Patton?”

“Two of your soulmates at your service. Roman Regio. Lovely… lovely to meet you, Virgil.” The words almost died in his throat as his breath was taken away by the man. Virgil was tall. And Roman was taller than average, but wow. Oh god that was hot. Why was that hot? He inhaled sharply. Man, he really wanted to kiss him right now.

“I have such handsome soulmates!” Patton exclaimed. Roman felt his face warm, but Virgil went full on red. “I know we just met, but I feel so close to you two already. We should get ice cream! And then we can learn all about each other and we can-”

“Slow down sweetheart, I think we’re overwhelming our poor Virgil.” Virgil seemed as if he was gonna fall over again, though he had his hand on the wall to steady himself. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m… I’m great. I’m so, so… great.” Virgil glanced between them and smiled like he was close to shouting that this was the best day of his life. It certainly was the best of Roman’s. “I- uh, wow.” Roman looked over at Patton, who, even though he had known him for all of five minutes, looked at him like he could read his mind. Patton nodded excitedly, so Roman stepped slightly closer.

“May I kiss you?” Virgil stumbled then, and Roman’s arm shot out to steady him, and as Virgil looked over at Patton, who was still smiling, (thank goodness Roman hadn’t misinterpreted his expression) Roman stood on his toes and gripped Virgil’s patchy jacket. Virgil glanced back with longing in his eyes. “May-”

“Oh God yes.” Roman didn’t need to hear another thing. He yanked Virgil down and there. There were the fucking fireworks. Kissing him wasn’t better or worse than kissing Patton, it was just different. So different. He was nearly unable to stop himself from shoving his tongue in Virgil’s mouth right away, but Virgil opened his mouth hungrily for him anyway. This was an explosion, all the blood rushing in his head told him that. But they didn’t need an explosion quite yet. Ice cream sounded nice. So Roman pulled away, smiling as Virgil tried to follow him with his lips. “I-” Roman stepped back, and Virgil flushed hotly in embarrassment, but he then nodded to Patton, who beamed.

“May I?” Virgil nodded, looking dumbfounded and completely overwhelmed, but in a good way. Patton giggled as he got closer, his hands slipping up to clasp around Virgil’s neck. Roman sighed as their lips connected, knowing that Patton was leading the chaste, soft kiss and knowing exactly how it felt. He grinned and nearly laughed as the tips of Virgil’s ears went red, but when they separated, his grin only widened at the smile on Virgil’s face. Patton’s kisses were so sweet, they were enough to distract Virgil from anything else.

“So my darlings, I think that ice cream sounds great. How about you?”

[youremeimyou]

Buttercup & her best friend Guk

(M)

pairing: Jeon Jungkook x reader genre: angssstt(don’t be fooled by the title, this is angsty stuff), some fluff, slight smut(?) idk I’ve never written anything describing ‘doing the deed’ before- friends to best friends THEN to lovers au lol, touch oriented Jungkook, ex-boyfriend Jimin word count: 6k warnings: smut(not too explicit but a bit rough) check out my mlist

Description: Jungkook has become someone very important to you over the last couple of years. But after your last experience with dating your best friend, you resolve to repressing your feelings. Until Jungkook can’t repress his own, anymore.

A/N: I had started writing this before the comeback but could only finish now. Btw the comeback was too lit i can’t even- Anyways, I hope you like this oneshot. As always, I’ll really appericiate if you leave feedback. I’d love to know what you think so that I can improve my writing. Enjoy!

Guk is your friend. He has always been ever since you got to know each other. What changed in the course of last few years was how close of a friend he was to you. You met him through Jimin, your former crush of a best friend as you liked to call him. See, being Jimin's best friend was easy at that time. Jimin is so full of love that he can't help but share it with others. And your clingly but cute friendship with him had started right after randomly getting paired in a group project in freshman year. But things move so fast with that guy.

You'd admit, despite having a long line of girls insterested in him, the fact that Jimin would always walk to you after stepping inside the school had you squirming and squeaking inside. Which sped up the whole falling for your best friend process excessively. And once you kissed him at that stupid frat party when you were both drunk, he felt like he had to respond to not have you feeling bad. The start of all your problems..

Because after being together for half a year, you overheard him talking to Hoseok about how your first kiss had actually happened. And it made you furious with thinking he was pity dating you that whole time.

And as fast as it begun, it was over. You were heartbroken for sure but realized maybe you weren't a great pair to begin with. As best friends, you were. With how you could talk to each other about everything, how you'd help each other with every problem and how much fun days would be. But the awful outcome of all of that was your friendship was lost in the process, too. Your friendship with Jimin meant you get to spend time with six other amazing guys that you loved, on a daily basis once. But unfortunately that too, was no longer possible for you after the break-up.

Except for Jungkook. 

As you had a falling out with Jimin, you grew closer with Jungkook. In fact, when you told him why you guys broke up, he went to Jimin and Hoseok's place in fury and had a serious fight with Jimin. Which damaged their relationship as well. Normally rushing like that without having a talk wasn't something Guk would do. Especially to his hyungs, whom he loved and respected very much.

But seeing the fragile look on your face that night, with tears theatening to fall down from your eyes, something came over him. Because in all the time he had known you, he hadn't witnessed a moment when you seemed week. It was characteristic of you to put up a front and hide it when you were struggling. But that night you were too hurt to pretend. And having Guk around, you didn't feel like you had to. His embrace was comfortable enough to fall apart in. So when you started trembling as he had his arms around you, he felt like his heart was being ripped out. Hence, the fight. And they didn't go on to become enemies or anything but it wasn't the same between him and his hyungs either.

Guk stayed with you since then. Not replacing the role of being your best friend but giving it a whole new meaning. Because he became someone you opened your heart to like you did to no one else.

Which is the reason why you're sitting on the hood of his car right now, staring at the night sky. It's chilly and you don't have a coat but it's okay. Because just as you suddenly shiver a little, a blanket is being wrapped around you. "Lucky you left these in the car after the last picnic." Jungkook says as he joins you on the hood and adds his arms to cover you from the cold. This isn't unusual for you two, especially since Jungkook is touch-oriented and you enjoy cuddles. What's kind of out of the ordinary is how quiet Jungkook's been all night. You've noticed but didn't mention it up until now, hoping he'd open up at some point. Because you were his confidant just as he was yours.

But Jungkook just kept his head low for the most of the night. It was his idea to come out here by the river, too. Which is a bit strange. Normally he'd make fun of you for planning a hangout such as this one, calling you a hopeless romantic. He seems calm but when he looks off into the distance, you can somehow see his mind is full and foggy.

"Are you gonna tell me what's on your mind, Guk?"

He looks down at you in surprise. "What do you mean?"

You want to continue but out of nowhere, you find yourself trying to repress a smile, because of the way his face seems upside down. Your head is currently positioned on his chest and you're apperantly still a child cause you find the reverted sight of his head funny.

"What's funny?" His demenour changes when he notices your lips curving, his features soften.

"Nothing. Other than your face." you tease. To such a comment, he'd usually respond with a forehead flick or something. But this time he giggles. "Your face upside down is quite the sight too, Y/N." He knows you like the back of his hand. He slowly removes a string of hair out of your eyes and to the back of your ear. Then turns back to watching the distance.

"I can see something's bothering you, Gukkie. Tell me what it is, so I can fix it." Your statement's geniune. You'd do anything to help him and he knows it. He also knows you're the only one who can fix what's wrong with him. That's why it hurts him to not be able to say it.

"I'm starting to like this kind of thing. You know, getting all cozy watching the stars and all. I'm afraid you're rubbing off on me."

You know he's just making this up to avoid the question but pushing the subject isn't the way to go with Jungkook. You'll take your time trying to figure out what's up.

"Then the solution is clear. You gotta get rid of me."

His gaze falls on you once more. "Don't even think for a second I'm ever letting you go."

That sentence is everything. It's reassuring and intimate but moreover, real. More real than what others promised to you before. After Jimin, you tried your chances with other guys. Luck wasn't on your side, though. Every bad ending made you close yourself more and shut others out. Making trust almost impossible. Guk is the only guy you can believe when he says he won't abandon you.

"Wanna head back? It's getting even colder out here." Jungkook suggests after a while of enjoying each other's company in silence. But sees that you've already fallen asleep on his chest. He has to carry you to the car and then to your house. Being as gentle as possible, he places you on your bed, lingering above you a bit longer than necessary.

Just as he's about to leave, you open your eyes ever so slightly when you feel the warmness of his touch fading away. "Hey.. stay.."

Jungkook's breath hitches and then he sighes heavily. "Now you wake up?"

Smiling at his complaint with your eyes half closed, you hold a grip on his wrist. "I'm sorry. Will you stay?"

Of course he will. "I was gonna come back to drive you to class in the morning, anyway. So why not?" He slips under the covers next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you to him. Which makes your smile grow even wider.

"C'moon, Y/N. Hurry!" Jungkook whines and pulls you down the stairs of your aparment in a rush. He just came over to your place at five in the morning, waking you up and dragging you out, claiming that he needed to show you something. You don't even get to question just what it is exactly he has to show you at this stupid hour when you make your way to the street.

"Did it shrink?"

Jungkook looks at you with confused eyes. "What?"

You lift your index finger to point at the motorcycle he's currently sitting on. "Did your car shrink to this?"

As soon as the penny drops Jungkook bursts into laugther, producing cute sounding giggles. Then, he is finally able to control himself. "And here I was, excited to show you my bike! I thought you'd like it." A playful pout settles on his lips.

"I- I mean it looks great, it's just.." you drag your sentence out at first, embarresed to say it but finally you give up with a sigh and admit. "I like it better in a car where it's- you know, safe."

Another round of merciless laughter comes from Guk. Until he notices you glaring. "It's not that dangerous, Y/N."

"Oh really?" You lift your left eyebrow in disbelief. It's only been a few days since you saw that motorcycle accident on the news, too. The balls this guy has, you think. When he senses that you're about to give him a whole lecture on the subject, mentioning known motorcycle accident rates and all, he quickly cuts you off and adds, "I mean, you don't have to worry because I'll be the one riding it, buttercup."

There it is. Buttercup. The nickname he mostly uses when he wants to convince you to do something you don't wanna do. (He also rarely calls you that if a moment you're having is too intimate.)

You cross your arms and just stand there, still glaring at him. His playful pout is then joined by sad doe eyes. "See?" he reaches up a helmet to you, bright purple with colorful decorations on it. It's pretty cute, you have to admit. "I had designed this helmet just for you and everything, too." When you still don't say a word, he gets up from the seat and comes towards you.

"Don't you trust me, buttercup?"

You take the helmet out of his hands and place it on your head, causing Jungkook's pout to transform into a bunny smile.

"Get ready for a hell of a fun ride, Y/N." he says with a smirk as you settle behind him.

"If you kill us, I won't hang out with you in hell."

"Yes, you will. But we'll be fine, trust me."

In fact, you do trust him. You know he's had his M1 licence for years now and he's been saving up for a bike maybe his whole life. It's just the other people on the streets that you have a problem trusting. Since those so called car drivers tend to not see bike riders in traffic. But as you slowly start crusing the streets you realize there aren't many cars out there if any. Considering how early it is,  it’s not exactly a surprise.

Jungkook starts picking up speed, not all at once but little by little. And you don't notice until you feel the wind harsh against your face. "Guk, don't go crazy." You hear him hum affirmatively over the motor sound. But he doesn't slow down. On the contrary, he's going even faster.

He makes a sudden turn and you grab his waist tightly in panic. Speed was never really your thing but it is just so Jungkook. By this point, you're not even looking around you. You're just ducked down behind Jungkook, holding onto him like a lifeline, eyes shut tight and head burried in his nape.

Then, Jungkook slows down. The roaring sound of the motor dials down and it takes a moment for you to finally open your eyes. When you do, you see that you're crossing a bridge. The dawn is breaking and the sky is splendid. You see every shade of yellow, orange and red up there. The wind is soft and the heat of the rising sun warms you to your bones. It's probably one of the most precious things you've ever witnessed. And you don't know why, but the sunrise resembles Jungkook in your mind. Only, the glow of his skin under it nearly outshines the sun itself. That's how beautiful Jungkook looks.

Your grip on his waist loosens but it's still there. Now, you're just holding him in content, wanting to share the moment. "This is what I wanted to show you, buttercup." His voice is just above a whisper. And you silently thank him by placing a soft but long kiss on his shoulder. Which is worth more than words to Jungkook.

"I wanna go~"

Jungkook cannot roll his eyes enough to express his disagreement. He's had more than enough of frat parties over the course of your college years.

"But I thought we weren't gonna do frat parties anymore."

"It's been years since we've been to one. I just think it could be fun, you know. And they have the best booze."

Well, they have free booze. But yeah, free booze is the best booze, Jungkook agrees. This particular frat house is the one his hyungs hangs out at, however. Since Taehyung and Namjoon live there. It used to be the usual chilling place back when you were dating Jimin. You haven't been there since the break-up and neither has Jungkook.

"You know he'll be there, Y/N." You give him a careless shrug. "Yeah. I don't care. I'm tired of running away from him." He looks at you with squinted eyes, wondering what caused your change of heart after almost three years. It doesn't look like you're gonna give up. "Fine. We'll go."

When you get there the party has already started but the door is closed, as always. Frat boys don't allow intruders. After ringing the bell rapidly you wait there, hoping someone can hear it over the music and moments later, a tall brunette opens the door and gasps immediately.

"Hey, Taehyung."

Next thing you know is Taehyung launching at you, trapping you in a tight hug. "I missed you, Y/N." he says with a muffled voice. You weren't expecting such a warm welcome. But Taehyung's always been an amazing friend to you. You can't deny that you've missed him, too. He breaks away from you only to tackle Jungkook down to the ground. "Finally remembered the way to hyung's house, have you Guk?" Thankfully, you're familiar with this hugging/wrestling thing they always did back then.

"Wanna let us in?" Guk manages to say while getting pinned down.

You make your way inside and apparently shit has already gone crazy. Everyone is making out with someone at some corner, the smell of weed is all over the place and beer pong seems to have turned into a fight rather than a friendly competition.

Taehyung fixes you up with two glasses of whiskey, since you're special guests. And okay, Jungkook can understand that Taehyung has missed you and wants to catch up but oh why does he have to walk in between you two? he thinks. His hands are all over you, too. Which is normal for you, you know he's touchy with all his close friends but it just annoys the hell out of Jungkook right now.

When you arrive at the big living room, you see him. Park Jimin in all his might. It's obvious he hasn't lost the king of beer pong title to anyone, with the way he's standing gracefully in front of the table and how people around him are worshipping him. He seems the same, except for the hair. He's dyed it pink. Jimin hasn't seen you yet and as he starts looking your way you take cover behind the boys.

"It's safe, he's gone the other way, honey." Taehyung informs. Honey? What the fuck? are Jungkook's thoughts.

You come out to see Jimin sitting on the sofa, with his back facing you. A girl comes to sit on his lap, grinding her hips on his and her lips are all over his neck. Jimin's too busy to notice you, tonight.

"Y/N." Jungkook appears in front of you. "We can still get out of here and go to a club or something-"

"No! We're gonna have fun and we'll do it here." Stubbernness usually comes with tipsy Y/N package, both Jungkook and Taehyung know this. So you stay.

After a while, when you've gulped down your third glass of whiskey and had a couple of vodka shots, you're ready to go crazy. Taehyung puts on a groovy hip hop song, wondering if you still own the dance-floor at parties. You don't. But with the amount of alcohol in your veins you forget that and get up on the table. When you start moving to the beat, a lot of woo-hoos can be heard. You've got some moves so this used to be your thing back then. People are gathering around you, cheering. Jungkook is trying to stay close to catch you in case you lose balance.

Which you eventually do and you stumble backwards on the edge but fall to the opposite side of Jungkook. And right into the arms of Jimin. Perfect.

"Caught you." he says and you gulp. First interaction in almost three years and you're in his arms. Jimin slowly and gently puts you down, helping you stand straight. "You're still the best drunk dancer around, huh?" His eyes are locked with yours. Why is he trying to converse with you? Why did he even save you? The last time you were together, you were shouting at him with anger, not even letting him speak. Didn't he hate you after that like you thought?

"I really am drunk."

"Let's get you to the couch-"

Jungkook runs over to you and pulls you to himself. "Buttercup, you okay?" You nod and he sighes in relief. Jimin leaves when Guk shows up, though.

Jungkook sits you down on the couch, examining your body for possible injuries but Taehyung calls him over.

"C'mon Guk! These guys are challenging your record. Let's show 'em." Jungkook tries to wave his hand to signal no but you stop him. "Just go. I'm fine."

"Y/N you just fell from-"

"I'm okay, I was caught. We're supposed to be having fun and you haven't finished your first drink yet. Just go and beat those guys in shots. Show 'em whose boss, Guk." Jungkook's record of downing more shots than anyone is important to him whether he admits it or not. But he hesitates to leave you. You have to push him and kick him on the butt lightly to make him go over there.

Once he leaves, you're once again across the view of the same girl devouring Jimin's neck. And this time, Jimin is responding. Unbottoning her shirt and kissing all over her bra. It's becoming too much for you to watch. Not that you're jealous, you've been over him for quite some time. But the sight just brings back the memory of a guy touching you or kissing you because he loved you. Well, you thought he loved you back then. That's why it was too hard to find out the truth about your relationship. After him, none of the guys you dated could make you feel special either. Even sex was just sex at a certain point so you stopped having that, too.

You get up and go to another room but the sudden movement makes you dizzy. Wobbly walking without looking ahead, you bump into someone.

"Shit, I'm sorry-"

"It's okay." he says and catches you when you lose balance again. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just moved suddenly that's all. I'm fine now."

He's tall. And definetely attractive. He pushes his hair back and you notice his lip ring. Fuck.. you love lip rings. Things escalate quickly and you find yourself dancing with him, bodies really close. It gets real steamy real fast when he places his lips on your neck.

"You're really beautiful." he whispers in your ear. "And I love the way you move to the beat." Compliments are only to get in your pants and you know it. But you don't mind, maybe it's what you seek. "You're not so bad yourself." After dancing and talking some more, he suggests to go somewhere else but you don't wanna waste time so you take him upstairs. Meanwhile Jungkook's been looking for you, going around the house and catches sight of you at the last second, seeing you going up the stairs and dragging someone with.

He tries to get to you quickly but the way is blocked with college students dancing and high out of their minds. It takes a while for him to break through and get to the staircase. You've already reached the closest room, Taehyung's. But it's occupied. By none other than Jimin and that girl. Seeing that fires you up even more and you drag the guy to Namjoon's room. Thankfully that one's available.

But someone barges in. "What the fuck are you doing?" It's Jungkook. He's pissed.

"Dude, what the fuck are you doing? Can't you see we're busy-" Jungkook grabs the guy and drags him out. Despite being shorter, he's more built and easily overpowers him. Then, closes the door flat on his face and turns to you.

"Jungkook, what the-"

"Do you know who he is?" he shouts at you.

"Yeah, the guy I was about to bang-"

"Do you even know his name, Y/N?" he's practically screaming at this point.

"It's Minjae or something."

"It's Jaebum. And he's a dick. He just wants to sleep with you and that's it. Do you know how many girls he played with? He's a fuckboy-"

"Great. That's what I wanted. I wanted someone who knows how to fuck good and you just kicked him out!" You shout back. This isn't like him, he's never intervened like this before. And he's shocked to hear you say those things. You, who wouldn't even bother having a one night stand anymore because of how meaningless it seemed.

"Why are you doing this, Y/N? Is it because of Jimin?"

"No!" Your face drops. "Yes?- I don't know. I just wanted someone to make me feel special. I haven't felt like that for the longest time, Guk."

Jungkook's whole demeanour changes and his eyes go dark. "And you go to that guy? A stranger you don't even know, to make you feel special?" He moves closer to you, making your heart race. You take a step back but your back hits the wall. He's trapped you. "You think he can give it to you better than I can?" He's so close that you feel his breath on your neck.

"Unlike him, I know just how special you are," One of his hands finds your shoulder. "how beautiful you are," That hand travels down your arm and finds your waist. "how strong but also how delicate you actually are." He grips your waist tightly, pulling you closer if that's even possible. "But I never even cross your mind like that, do I?" He speaks as if the words are venom. Almost like he's hurt. But what he doesn't know is he has been in your mind like that. More than once or twice.

"You do.." It's barely even audible so Jungkook has to ask again in shock.

"What?"

"You do cross my mind like that. I just-"

His lips are on yours.

What you were hoping to get from that Jaebum guy tonight can't even get close to this feeling and all Jungkook's doing is kissing you. But it's too deep to be labeled as just a kiss. Very rough but passionate, open mouthed and wet. He practically has to rip himself apart from you to let the both of you breath.

Your hands instinctively go to his belt, trying sloppily to unbuckle it. Which makes him freeze and come out of the frenzy he was in.

"Wait. Y/N, are we going too far?"

Not the time to be considerate Guk, you think but his hand finds yours and stops them.

"Not far enough, Guk." You slap his hand away and get to the task at hand once more.

"Y/N- I won't be able to stop if you keep this up. Are you- are you sure-"

"Jungkook.. please.." You have no idea what's gotten into you. Maybe it's the repressed feelings you've been having for him coming to surface or maybe it’s the alcohol but you're dying for him to touch you right now. "Just please.."

And that's all it takes for his eyes to go dark again. Next thing you know is you're on the bed, no clue how or when you got there and Jungkook is pushing into you relentlessly. When did you get undressed? When did he even put the condom on? Time is so wobbly in that moment. It feels like seconds and hours at the same time. And Jungkook turns out to be right. He does know you the best. Every inch of your body he'd already learned from all the times you held each other close. Somehow, he knows exactly where to touch and how.

Every moan from you is music to his ears and he gives his all to hear more of it. Moans turn into his name as you close in on your climax. "J-Jungkook ahh.. Jungkook.." you scream on and on and he can't hold much longer, either. His thrusts become sloppy but determined to satisfy you the best as he claimed, he keeps filling you up.

"Don't stop. I'm almost there.. I'm-" you cum all over him and he follows soon after. All the while having the most dazed smile on his face. After pulling out, he connects your lips once more but this time it's softer. Like he's savouring the taste.

Then he lies next to you and silence takes over. You want to say something but all words are lost to you. Everything is overwhelming, from the way you’re both out of breath to how his head is burried in the crook of your neck. Guk on the other hand seems to be in a bliss.

"I.. I love you, buttercup." he manages to say before dozing off. You open your mouth to say something, but close it when you hear the light sleeping noises coming from him. He's only saying that because of what just happened, right?

Taehyung finds you like that in his bed a couple of hours later and kicks the two of you out. "I have to bleach my sheets and my eyes now, thanks." he complains while doing so. You make him swear to never speak of this to anyone and he complies. "I'm blocking this memory out completely, don't worry."

The ride home is silent. You still hold Jungkook's waist on the bike but he doesn't stay with you when you get home. Even though he'll come back in a few hours to take you to class. You don't ask why, you need to take time to process everything, as well.

Last night is the fifth time in a row that you don't get enough sleep. A couple of weeks has past since that night with Jungkook and honestly.. you’re fucked to say the least. On the surface it looks like you’re both moving on with your lives as normal, almost like nothing happened. Almost being the keyword here. Because once you take a closer look, you can see that the times he stays over at your place has dialed down to a zero. Touching each other freely is no longer an option, either. And these among many others are the reasons you can’t sleep properly.

Your plan is to talk to him tonight. The original plan is going to Taehyung’s birthday party that’s being held in a club. After the frat party he insisted both of you to join since you’ve missed the last two birthdays of his. And you agreed. Especially because Guk was starting to patch things up with his hyungs again and you had missed the guys as well. And you’re gonna talk to Guk when you see him there. For sure.

If he ever comes near you for more than ten seconds, that is. The venue is cramped up with lots of people and Jungkook must’ve made it his mission to speak to each and every one of them because he won’t stop moving around. After trying to get him alone for countless times and failing, you retreat to the sitting area with the biggest frown on your face. Jimin finds you and sits next to you.

“Why are you sulking in the corner? Don’t let Taehyung see you like this, he says everyone has to be having the time of their lives and he seems pretty strict about it.” Considering that Taehyung’s a drama queen, that sounds about right.

“I can’t get Jungkook to pay attention to me.”

Jimin smiles at your pouty face. “Oh no! A lovers’ quarrel?”

“Wha- No! We’re not- lovers.” you air-quote the word ‘lovers’, it always sounded strange to you.

Confusion can be read on Jimin’s face. “Really? We always thought you guys were dating. Are you sure you’re not?” The last part he says in a teasing voice.

“I’m positive Jimin, don’t make fun of me.” you’re still sulking.

“I’m not. So what happened?”

You turn your head to look at him. After all this time, you feel like you can still talk to him and he’ll understand. “I- I mean we- well, it happened so suddenly but-”

“You guys had sex.”

Your eyes go wide and your mouth drops with shock.

“Taehyung told me how he caught you two.” Jimin shrugs. That traitor.

“Okay, yes. And I think I scared him away. Just like I did to you.” You laugh at the irony bitterly.

Jimin turns completely to you and makes you face him as well. “Look Y/N, I never really had the chance to explain back then but- you didn’t scare me away. It wasn’t like what you thought. Yeah, our first kiss was totally out of nowhere for me but I truly loved dating you. I did, in a really short time, fall for you. And I was in no way pity dating you. It was all real, I swear.”

Wait, what? You had fought with Jimin all those years ago and ended your relationship over nothing? And you screamed at him, blamed him for something so shitty that he didn’t even actually do? Your heart sank. “Jimin, I-”

“Look, I was sad but I moved on. I know you have, too. To Jungkook. I was pretty upset, thinking he stole you from me for quite some time.”

“Jimin, I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything to me. But just- it’s okay that you’ve fallen for your best friend. It wasn’t a mistake then and it’s not a mistake now. But talk to him about it, alright?”

Well fuck. He's right. You have fallen for your best friend again. Two things are different about this time, though. The first is this time you managed to hide it, even from your self. Because of how badly things ended before. And the second thing is what you feel for Jungkook is poles apart from your former feelings for Jimin.

If the first time your desire was a candle light, this time it's the sun in its entirety. And even though you've been flying too close to it this whole time, it doesn't burn you, instead it warms your soul. The simple sight of Jungkook is enough to comfort you and his arms are always home. And ever since you've had a taste of him, the taste of his body linking with yours in a perfect fit and the blissful feeling following that, you know this isn't like anything you've felt before.

"So.. it looks like your moment of clarity is in process. I'm gonna go get Gukkie." Jimin says and gets up.

You stop him for a moment, gripping his shirt. "Thanks, Jimin. And I'm sorry." Then you let your grip go and put on a guilty but geniune smile. He smiles understandingly as response before going to find Jungkook.

Jimin gets up on one of the futons to get a better view into the crowd. Which helps him locate the younger boy. He suddenly feels nervous as he walks closer to Jungkook. He had no problem talking to you but somehow he had this stupid pride about talking to Jungkook until now. Because yeah, you yelled at him and said heavy things but Jungkook.. one of the people who knows him best didn't even bother asking if what he heard was true. And the fight they had was a physical one. Which left Jungkook with a bleeding nose, Jimin with a black eye and both of them with broken hearts.

Jimin slowly taps on Guk's shoulder, making him turn around.

"Can I talk to you Jungkook?"

Jungkook's eyes tear up a bit but he holds it in. He's always felt guilty about how he treated Jimin back then and carried that with him for a long time. And now, all of that mixed with the little alcohol in his system, makes him emotional. Especially because it's Jimin who made the first approach, even though it's Jungkook who was at fault. "Hyung.. I-"

"Both of us were lost in a misunderstanding that day. But I'm the hyung, I should've made things right. I'm sorry-"

"No! I am. I don't know why I attacked you like that, without even trying understand you before. And I was a coward for not coming to sort things out all this time. Hyung, please forgive me for hurting you."

Jimin's eyes turn into crescents and he pulls the younger in a tight hug. "We've all missed you so you have to make up for all the lost time, punk." He jokingly scolds him but in brotherly language, it means he accepts the apology.

"I will hyung. In fact, let's have a drink-" Jungkook smiles as they part. But Jimin makes him turn his body towards you. "First, talk to her."

"Wha-"

"A bit of advice, tell her exactly how you feel. No lies." Then he practically shoves Guk your way. You were already walking to him so you meet halfway when Jungkook -being pushed- clashes into you, making you stumble backwards.

Thankfully he catches you before you fall but now, his arms completely surround you and your faces are only inches apart. "Shit- you okay Y/N?"

"Yeah, you?"

He nods but doesn't let go for a while, staring into your eyes with his own misty, chocolate ones.

"Did you talk to Jimin-ie hyung about something? Cuz he was just mentioning-"

"Why are you avoiding me after- that night?" you cut him off in a moment of boldness, returning the intense gaze back. And you can feel his body tense up immediately after. The clouds in his eyes grow and worry is written all over them.

"You didn't say it back. And I felt so stupid."

Your stomach drops. You didn't say that you loved him back and that's why he felt like he made a mistake.

"I felt like I pushed you into what happened that night. Just because I'm irrevocably in love with you, doesn't mean that you have to feel the same way-"

Not being able to take it anymore, you clash your lips onto his. You don't think you can explain with words just how much you do love him back. How he became your closest and then your whole life. So you pour everything into that kiss, hoping he might understand.

And he returns the kiss in light speed. But you can tell that he's shocked from the way his hands lift up from around your body. When you part, the mist in his eyes are gone and replaced by sparkles.

"I'm sorry. I love you so bad that I feared I'd push you away. That's why I couldn't say it back. The last time I fell for my best friend-"

"I'm not Jimin." he says. You're very well aware. His eyes go big in realization and he backs away from you a little before speaking. "So.. I'm not a dumbass for thinking that all of our picnics, night drives, all the times we sat by the river looking at the sky and every movie we saw huddled together always felt like it could actually be a date?"

A smile creeps up on your mouth because these are all exactly your thoughts. Everything you've done together felt like the best date ever. Even the goofiest stuff.. You nod at him, still smiling.

His hands find your body again, softly surrounding your waist as he pulls you closer to himself. "We don't have to change much for them to be real dates. Just add a couple of kisses from now on and that's it." He jokes around. "So, will you have me?" His gaze goes a little fragile while asking that. If anything, he's a dumbass for thinking he has to ask.

"Only if you add some of what you did to me that night into the mix." You say slyly and he fakes a dramatic gasp.

"You're naughty. But I'm sure I can fix you up. When are you available?"

You go closer to his ear and mutter the next words only above a whisper. "Right now."

Then you both giggle as you hastily make your way out of there. It's safe to say this is the best night you've had in quite a while. And it'll only get better from now on.

...

A/N: My first Jungkook fic!! I know it was long, thanks sooo much if you bared with me and read it. I hope you enjoyed it. Also, idk if you’ve read any of my previous work but if you have, you might’ve seen that I’m always asking for feedback but end up not getting it(i mean comments, your likes are very much appreciated ofc). It really does mean a great deal to me to see what you guys think of my fics. So I’d be glad to read your comments. Anyways, have a lovely dayyy :)

[hybridequalist]

Thinking Out Loud (Part 3)

So I forgot to cross-post this here. Whoops. Sorry for the long break. Part 4 will be out tomorrow.

Taglist: @nesli26, @manga-crazy, @venomemes, @galleyleelol, @makingtimemine, @jackie-sugarskull, @nightshade7117, @skysthelimit291, @randomshizzles101, @inumorph, @snow-massacre, @phantom-fangirl-stuff, @pixellated-sparks, @vsalamandor2, @otaku-mai, @snarky-badger

---

You knew you were in trouble when you saw Lauren's smug face the next morning. If she didn't make the best breakfasts in the world, you'd have turned around and walked right out.

You managed to avoid looking at her directly long enough to sit at the table and pour yourself some juice, but Lauren picked up your glass and held it out if reach, still grinning.

“Hey there, who was that hunk you rode in with last night?” she signed with one hand.

“Shut up!” you signed back, feeling your face flush. “It's not like that!”

You swiped at your captive juice but Lauren was much taller than you and she smiled down at you.

“Spill,” she challenged, her fingers translating her sass with a flourish.

“It was not a date, we barely know each other and he was just dropping me off. Now juice!”

“Details girl. Details.”

“I didn't have dinner! Let me eat!”

That broke her teasing mood. Lauren finally relinquished the cup and ran to get the hot breakfast off the stove. You felt a slight twinge of guilt as she began to fill your plate more than usual, taking a noticeably smaller portion for herself.

To anyone else, Lauren’s behavior may have just seemed motherly but you knew better. Your psychic eavesdropping had caught more than one memory of Lauren as a disadvantaged teen, hungry and turned away from entry-level work because of her deafness. You knew all about her determination that no one renting from her would lose as much opportunity as she did worrying about when they were going to eat next. No one else could know that, however: your landlady was a well-dressed, modern woman who got her hair dyed some new radical color every other month. Without your power, you wouldn’t know the reason why she invited you to breakfast, that she planned to ensure you had at least one decent meal every single day.

But you feigned your usual innocence as you dug into the delicious food, trying to ignore Lauren’s racing mind as she conjured reasons for why you hadn’t eaten last night and did her best to combat them, holding off judgement until you were able to tell her the full story.

When you finished eating, you gave her the abridged version: that you had met Eddie at work and run into him again at the grocery store yesterday. Glossing over the details of the store being attacked, you chose to omit Venom entirely and instead told Lauren that in the panic you'd been knocked over and hit your head, that Eddie had looked out for you and been kind enough to bring you home when you woke up.

Lauren was a touch suspicious, sensing your editing but uncertain what you were holding back. Still, she shrugged and you recognized the return of her teasing mood and held back a premature weary sigh.

“You know, that Eddie guy sure is nice to look at,” she signed with a grin. “And he's a biker boy. You always did have...interesting taste.”

You flushed violently, hiding your face to block her words.

“Stop!” you signed, going redder as Lauren laughed at you. You heard her making mock kissy noises when your phone suddenly began to ring. You both jumped at the sound and panic instantly set into your chest. Lauren noticed you freeze and came over to your chair, fishing the device out from your pocket. Her eyes widened and you saw her smile.

The image in her brain showed Eddie's caller ID. The ID you'd tiredly assigned him before sending your own name over text.

Hot Mess Eddie

The ringing cut off and a text chimed out almost immediately in its place. Same contact.

You stiffly held your hand out for your phone and Lauren passed it over with a smirk before grabbing your empty plate as an excuse to give you some space.

Hey, sorry to call. I forgot.

Forgot? Forgot the one thing everybody seemed to mark as your defining trait.

Another text.

Reporter instinct. BTW, did you take my helmet last night?

Hemet? Oh, the one you'd been wearing. If your memory was correct…

It's on my coffee table, you replied. Do you need it?

Nah, but you’re gonna need it if you want me to pick you up later. You gonna be up for lunch?

Your pulse quickened and you almost dropped your phone in shock. Was he...asking you out?

I don’t have a shift tonight, so I can stay up. But why do you want to go out to lunch? I’m not exactly a conversationalist.

It took almost a minute before you saw the little ellipse that meant he was writing out a reply.

V wants me to tell you that he’s got a surprise. I still think it’s a bit early, but he’s giving me a headache for arguing. It’s pretty cool tho, gotta admit.

Surprise? What? Why?

You heard Lauren snicker and saw a flash of your own face in her thoughts. Apparently your face was red enough that she could see you blushing from the kitchen and you instinctively turned away, willing the blood to leave your cheeks.

Do you have a place in mind? You typed slowly.

----

You did you best to suppress jitters as you stood at the curb, motorcycle helmet tucked under your arm. You’d requested Lauren stay inside, but you knew she was watching from her window--both to satisfy her curiosity and ensure your safety.

You heard their thoughts before you saw them. Much like actual voices, it started quiet as they entered “hearing” distance but became steadily louder along with the revving of the motorcycle’s engine.

Suddenly, you felt self-conscious. You were dressed nicely, but the priority of your outfit was comfort, not fashion. Your hair was also fine, but you began to wonder if maybe you should have done something special with it. This was supposed to be a lunch meetup, but you didn't know what type of venue it would be. Your heart rate picked up and you felt your anxiety starting to raise its vicious head.

You pushed back, trying to force deep breaths, to keep your thoughts under control. Yet the tunnel vision started to set in despite your best efforts. Fragmented thoughts began to whirl like multiple tornadoes and a rising sense of panic began to choke you, cutting off all air. Tears stung your eyes behind closed lids when suddenly you felt two strong hands rest on your shoulders and heard your name, though it was muffled under your roaring pulse.

“Hey! I think you’re having a panic attack! Are you breathing? Can you try breathing?”

The realization that someone was in front of you pulled you out of the whirlpool slightly. It may not have brought the world back from crumbling, but suddenly you felt like there was an anchor keeping you from entirely plummeting into the black hole.Your hands reached out against your will and you found yourself clinging to this person’s chest, hands twisted into what felt like leather.There was no air in your lungs--not that you could feel--and your throat was stubbornly unresponsive to every sound you tried to make. So you reached out with your last resort.

You couldn’t keep the mental communion open for long--your focus was too scattered, your emotions too sweeping--but for a brief moment, you sent a burst of your emotions into the person crouched in front of you. All of your panic, your desire to be comforted, you desperate need to re-learn breathing, you sent it out in an unspoken plea for help.

For a moment, nothing happened. Your anxiety spiked in immediate response; You asked for too much; You would be cast away to fall into the abyss; You were going to die here.

Then you felt the fabric under your fingers ripple, like a living being woven of some strange material, flexing like a cat leaning into human touch. You felt your hands sink into it, giving you a better grip just as you felt thick arms wrap around you, pulling you into the stranger’s solid chest.

A voice rumbled through that chest. You couldn’t understand what they said, but found yourself zeroed in on the sound of their breathing, the feel of their pulse. Their arms tensed and relaxed in time with each breath and you found yourself trying to mimic the movement with limited effectiveness. The vibrations of your anchor’s voice rippled through your body, accompanied by some kind of lower pitch you couldn’t identify. It made you shiver and that motion made you realize that you were quaking so hard that there was no way you could have supported yourself.

Eventually, the panic began to subside into exhaustion; your violent shudders calmed into small fits of shaking and then entirely faded away. Your mind rose from the pit of despair and the sounds of the world and the thoughts of others returned.

The first thing you became aware of was who held you--that double-toned mental voice was entirely unmistakeable.

“Yeah, I’ve got you,” Eddie was saying.

“WE HAVE GOT YOU,” Venom corrected and you felt the jacket ripple--or rather, the symbiote disguised as a jacket.

“You just need to keep breathing. As long as you breathe, you can make it.”

You heard footsteps coming from behind you on the pavement and you twisted to see Lauren running from the front door of the complex. She reached you and Eddie and dropped to one knee, looking you over worriedly.

“You good?” she signed. You shakily nodded and tried to pull yourself to your feet. Your knees buckled before you really got anywhere and ended up halfway dangling, clinging to Eddie like a baby koala. He chuckled.

“You think it’s okay if I carry you inside?”

Could he even lift you?

“EDDIE, WE ARE STILL HEALING. DON’T MOVE TOO FAST.”

"I know our limits, Vee. But we gotta make sure she's safe."

You jumped when you felt new hands on your arm, but it was only Lauren trying to get your attention. She repeated Eddie's question in sign and you shakily gave an affirmative.

Eddie's arms were sturdy--no sign of the injury his other half had mentioned--as he carried your tired self back into the apartments. Lauren led him to her apartment and showed him to her bedroom, indicating she wanted me put in her bed. You protested in sign, but she conveniently didn't see your words.

It wasn't until you were laid on the bed that you realized how much your little attack had worn you out. The second your weight left Eddie's arms, your eyes slid shut and you yawned deeply.

"Go ahead and nap," Eddie encouraged. "I'll be out here...if your landlady is okay with it."

You tiredly gave a thumbs up and heard Venom's thoughts call out to you.

"WE WILL KEEP YOU SAFE FROM ANYTHING. EVEN YOUR OWN BRAIN. SO DON'T HESITATE TO CALL OUT FOR US--IN ANY WAY YOU CAN."

You couldn't help but smile as you slipped off into sleep.

[allisonbaelfire]

Sulit

Pairings: Tony Stark!Father x Reader, Morgan Stark!sister x Reader

Requested: 1.) @queenylime - Tony’s Daughter!reader who’s from a previous relationship and a member of the Avengers. Just snippets of her through the Film. Like her interacting with Morgan, her reacting to Nat’s death and of course her fathers / 2.) @marvelgladers – can you write something where Reader has a nightmare where Tony dies and she goes up to his room to make sure he’s okay and just breaks down crying and has a panic attack and he comforts her afterwards?

Chapter Summary: After 5 years you decided to live with your father again to be there for your sister. But in order to do that, you first had to talk to your father again.

Word Count: 2, 631

Authors Note: I’m so sorry for the quality of the gif / btw endgame broke me but Morgan is way too cute // This is part one!

Sulit ~ (adj.) something that is worth it.

_______________

Avengers Facility:

Scott Lang was back. He brought Steve and Natasha hope, hope to undo everything that Thanos made disappear. But for that they needed help, your dad’s help.

“He won’t do it Cap.” You leaned against the door looking at Steve.

Steve looked at you with a look you knew only too well. He knew, if he would go to your father without you and ask for his help, he would say no, but what if you asked him?

“Y/N, that could be our only chance.” Natasha appealed to you.

You replied and shook your head. “I’m not like my dad, not that smart but-” You walked over to her. “if we screw up – and the possibility is 90% that we do, we’ll lose everything.” You looked at her than at Steve, he didn’t nod or anything but he knew you were right.

“We owe it to anyone who’s not in this room to try.”  

You knew that not only did she point to half humanity, but also to Peter.  

You and Peter started dating, just before the snap. He really meant a lot to you, you missed him every day.

Still, you wouldn’t have thought that she would use Peter against you, just to convince your dad for something where nobody knew if it would work. You left the control room and went into your own room in the Avengers facility.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Hey,” Steve mumbled. You looked at him. “You knew she didn’t mean it like that.” He came to you and sat down.

You laid on the ground and looked up. You had a glass panel as a ceiling, you loved to see the sky, especially in the evening.  

You looked at him. “And you know exactly that she did.” You responded.

You grew up with Steve and you and you were good friends. He was always there for you when you felt bad or needed advice.

Steve chuckled and you did too. Then he laid next to you. “You know we’ve to try.”

You exhaled. “Do you remember how disappointed he was when he came back and knew I didn’t listen to him and became an Avenger? Meanwhile, we are a family again but you can see where I live, he is still disappointed. I don’t know if he’ll listen or throw me out.”

“He won’t.” Steve replied.  

“How are you so sure?”  

Steve smiled. “Morgan would throw him out first.” You both chuckled. “Besides, he’s your dad.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tony Stark’s House:

Natasha, Steve, Scott and you had just arrived at your father's house. You didn’t even get out and you were nervous.  

Your dad and you used to have a great relationship, but when you became part of the Avengers, it changed. Pepper and Morgan were the only reason why you talked to each other again.

“Y/N!” Morgan shouted and ran to you.

“Hey, troublemaker.” You smiled and picked her up.  

She wrapped her arms around your neck and hugged you tight. “I’ve missed you so much.” Natasha smirked as she saw you both.

“How much?” You replied playful.

“Missed you 1000.” She chuckled.

Your dad so smiled as he saw you both interacting. But when he saw Steve's facial expression, his smile disappeared. You noticed.

You put your little sister on the ground again. “Okay little one, how about you go inside and tell mom that I’m home?” You smiled and your sister nodded, then she ran inside.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Scott explained your father what he wanted to do – time travelling. Steve tried to convince him, Natasha too but he said no without even thinking about it.

First you wanted to be quiet. Steve just wanted you to come along, not that you say something. But suddenly it bursts out of you.

“How can you be so stubborn?” You mumbled. “Did you forget them already? Did you forget him, Peter?” You looked at your father disappointed.

Tony looked at you, as if he couldn’t believe what you were saying. Although he was never a fan of both of you dating, he loved Peter like a son, he was his family.

“Y/N, what they – what you want to do, won’t work. You’ll either fail or change our time and we could lose what we’ve now.” He explained angry.

You stood up and before you could say another word, Morgan came out of the house. “Mom said I should safe you.” She spoke soft and went on your dad’s lap.  

“You did, you did safe me.” Tony responded and lifted her up.

“Tony, this could be our second chance.” Steve added.

“I’m holding my second chance in my arms.” Your father replied. “If you won’t talk about work, you can stay.” Then he went inside.

“I told you.” You said to Steve and went to the car.

You were angry, angry that you knew that your father didn’t even want to listen to your plan. But you were also mad at yourself, that you thought he was finally over it that you were an Avenger. That you hoped to bring everyone back.

The others also came to the car, Steve touched your shoulder to comfort you. He knew your father's words hurt you a little bit. But before you could open the door of the car, Morgan ran outside and back to you.

“Can you please stay?” She asked and it seemed like she was about to cry. “I don’t want you to go.”

Your heart broke. You loved your little sister over everything and if the snap brought out something good, then it was Morgan. But you had to work on a solution to bring everyone back.

You knelt in front of her but as you wanted to say something Natasha knelt next to you both. “Y/N, will stay.” You looked confused at her. “Will you watch out for her until I’m back?”

Morgan nodded. “Yes, Auntie Nat.”

“Go inside and wash hands, I’ll be right behind you.” You said to your sister and she did.

“Why?” You asked Natasha.

“Because you still have your family and they need you.” She smiled soft.  

“You’re also my family.” You responded. Natasha hugged you tight.  

You were confused how Natasha behaved. It's like saying goodbye to you, in a different way.

“We always will be, but you stay here.” She nodded and wiped a small tear away.

“We’ll go to Bruce, maybe he can help us.” Steve responded. “We'll let you know if there is something new, but Natasha is right, you should stay here for now.” He also hugged you.

“Don’t mess it up.” You looked at Scott who pointed on himself and shook his head.

“Never.”

Then they got in the car and drove off. You had a strange feeling in your stomach, as if something bad was about to happen.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You went into the house and saw your family sitting at the dining table. It was nice to see them as if everything was okay and nothing bad would ever happen here.

After eating, you helped Pepper get Morgan to bed.

“You know he didn’t mean it like this.” Pepper said as she waited for Morgan to finish cleaning her teeth.

“You heard it?”  

She nodded. “I know, sometimes you think he doesn’t love you as much as he loves Morgan or me but that’s so not true, Y/N. I was with him as your mother left him with you.” You looked at her and your eyes filled with tears, you tried to hide. “He was never alone because he had you and he did everything in his life for you. He loves you so much.”

“They’re cleaner than clean, looooook!” Morgen smiled as bright as she could.

You chuckled. “Good Job trouble, bedtime story?” You asked her and she nodded excited.

“Fine, then I’ll help daddy with the dishes. Good night baby.” Pepper kissed Morgan on her forehead.

You picked your little sister up and carried her in her bed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“What story shall I read to you, you’ve so many!” You pretended to be excited to she would be happy.

“I want to hear some Avengers Stories.” She replied and laid down. “Dad hates to talk about it and mom doesn’t know much.”

You smiled soft. “Fine. Make some space.” You laid next to your sister and she cuddled herself in your arms. “A long time ago, before Thanos, Dad and the other Avengers had to fight Loki -”

“Thor’s Brother?” Morgan made big eyes and looked shocked.

“Mhm.” You chuckled. “Loki wanted to rule our world. Probably because Thor was about to be king in Asgard and Loki also wanted to be a king.”

“But that is mean, why was he so mean?” She asked.

“I don’t think he wanted to be mean, I think he just wanted to be loved as well. However, Dad was the only one who could find out where Loki was, in the old Avengers Tower in New York. He was so brave to distract Loki alone, so Aunt Natasha could come to the scepter. Then-” You looked at Morgan, she was already asleep.

It was nice to see your little sister sleep so peacefully. Actually, you would sleep in the guest room, but it was nice not to be alone. So, you decided to sleep here with your sister.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, you woke up alone. You were worried that Morgan was not next to you, but then you remembered she lived in the safest house in the world.

You went to the bathroom and took a quick shower, you put on the clothes that Pepper put out for you and went down. When you looked at the clock, you noticed you had already overslept lunch. It was the first time in years that you had slept well and long.

“You’re awaaaake!” Morgan smiled and jumped in your arms. “Don’t sleep so long everyday okay, I need someone to play and mom and dad are not as fun as you.”  

“Hey, I heard that!” Pepper replied and you two chuckled.  

You lifted your pinky finger up and made a pinky promise to Morgan not to sleep so long anymore.  

“Do you want to eat?” Pepper smiled and you nodded.

“Let me eat something quick and then we can play outside.” You put her down and she nodded.

“I’ll wait for you in my secret hiding.” Morgan laughed. “You’ve to find me.” Then she ran outside.

You looked at Pepper, “When it’s a secret how shall I?” You grinned.

“It’s her tent.” She chuckled and you joined her.

“Where’s-?”

“Your father? In the Garage.” She responded.  

“Some things never change.” You mumbled. “Thanks for the clothes, I’ll ask Steve to get some of my stuff here.”

“No need, I’ve a lot I can share with you.” Pepper replied smiling and sat next to you. “You know, I also missed you a lot.” She admitted. “I mean, I'm not your mother and maybe you came a bit short since Morgan but I was with you since you were a baby so-”

You hugged Pepper tight. No, she wasn’t your real mother but that never made anything different. She always took care of you and watched out for you. She helped you in school, when you were in trouble – because you were your father’s daughter, school wasn’t so interesting for you, and when you fell for Peter. She was there your whole life and you couldn’t have asked for a better mom.

“Just because I didn’t say “Mom” the last times I was here, doesn’t mean you aren’t my mother any more. You always will be, no matter what.” Pepper hugged you back and you felt that she was crying happy tears. “But if I have to find Morgan now.” You let go of her and she nodded.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Troublemaker, where are you?” You asked as you were going around her tent.  

Morgan sneaked out of her hiding place and tried to scare you. You noticed people who wanted to kill you, miles away but you still pretended that she scared you.  

You fell to the ground. “Oh god, don’t do that again!” You joked.

You played with Morgan for a few hours, which seemed like minutes to you. You noticed that Morgan was very similar to you in some things. She was a fighter rather than a genius.

“Morgan!” Pepper shouted. “Come inside, you’ve to shower and after it we eat dinner.”

“Oh mommy, no.” She replied sad. “We wanna play.”  

You chuckled. “Come on, listen to mom.” Pepper came to get her.

“But what if you’re gone when I come back?” She seemed sad. “I don’t want to lose you.”

This broke your heart. “I won’t I promise.” You kissed her head. “I’ll clean up our mess and then I’ll come inside too.” Morgan nodded and Pepper brought her inside.

Morgan looked at you until she was inside, she was worried you would break your promise. It hurt you to see your little sister like that, Natasha and Steve were right. It was right to stay with your family. Morgan needed you.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Your dad came out of the garage, heading straight for you. He looked like he was mad and would want you to leave.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke. You were surprised. “I didn’t want you to feel like you’re not a part of the family.”  

“What do you mean?” You replied.

Since you were here, you both didn’t talk to each other much. He didn’t give you the feeling that he wanted you here or that he didn’t want it. It seemed like you ignored each other.

“Five years ago, when I came back. I wasn’t mad because you became an Avenger nor was I disappointed, I was scared to death.” He explained. His words confused you, you two sat down on the porch.

“I’ve missed many moments of your life. I mean Pepper had to film you first steps because I had to work.” He remembered. “Then I lost against Thanos and thought I lost you, I come back and you’re an Avenger, ready to die to fix my mess.”

“But you knew that Natasha and Clint trained me. You wanted Steve to train me too. What did you expect? That I’d sit there when you were lost in space, instead of helping and protecting Earth like you thought me all those years when I watched you from below?”

“I hoped so.” Tony looked at you. “I wanted you to know how to protect yourself if necessary but not to protect the world. “It’s like Morgan said, I don’t want to lose you.” He admitted. “And I’m not much of a talker, I just thought you’d know why I was so distant.”

“I thought you were mad and Steve and me because I fought along his side. Because you maybe thought he forced me to fight. He didn’t, he tried to get me as far away from the fight as he could at first.” You replied. “I broke into your lab and found the suit, and Dad I know you didn’t make it for mom, F.R.I.D.A.Y. told me.” You looked at him. “It was mine and it was on me to save the Earth, alongside the Avengers, when we didn’t know if Earth’s greatest protector would ever come back. I had to avenge you.”

“Damn it, Y/N.” he pulled you into a hug and kissed the top of your head.  

You felt that your dad was crying, so your tears fell as well. It was nice to be held back by your dad, you missed him.

You felt a tiny hand on your back and on your head. “I love you 1700.” Morgan whispered.

Your dad and you chuckled. “We love you too.”

______________________

Tags: @marvelgladers, @profoundlyunimpressedwiththeban, @abswritesfandoms, @not-so-epic-iii, @queenylime

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Here you can read: Part Two

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-> Buy me a Coffee

[heyyyharry]

My Girl Series: Chapter 9 - Bambi

…in which the little girl next door isn’t so little anymore.

Series description: Y/N falls in love with the older boy next door who doesn’t feel the same, years later they meet again at a funeral.

AU: actor!harry, older!harry, younger!y/n; (4-year age gap)

Chapter 8: Without The Love - Harry wants what he shouldn’t, and now he cannot leave.

Warning: smut (yes guys, finally), and also mistakes because my eyesight got blurry after going through 7k words lmao.

wattpad link

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"But boys don't like little girls."

"That's not true. I'm a boy and I like you."

"You do?!"

"Of course I do. You're my girl."

With a faint smile, fifteen-year-old Harry headed back to his front porch. He thought about the look on Y/N's face when he called her his girl, oh how happy she must've felt, and that made him feel special too. As the boy sat back down with his study group, his eyes still followed the girl until she was finally out of sight.

"Are you dating an eleven-year-old?" The fat kid named Brian said, pulling Harry's attention back to the skeptical stares everyone in the circle was giving him. They all cracked up at that one question, causing the poor boy to shift uncomfortably in his spot.

"She's just my neighbor," he said, but nobody seemed convinced.

"I think she has a crush on you," said the pretty blonde sitting right in front of him. When she pressed her lips into a smile, Harry swore that his heart might've just skipped a beat.

Her name was Kathy — the most beautiful girl in school. Earlier that year, there had been rumors going around that she secretly liked Harry a lot, but she hadn't found the courage to ask him out yet. And frankly, who wouldn't want to receive attention from such a beautiful girl? So when she assumed that his little friend might have a crush on him, he couldn't let her believe that was true, not even for a second.

"I think she only sees me as her big brother," he reassured Kathy.

Another smile formed on her lips as she combed her fingers through her golden locks.

"Trust me, I know when a girl likes a boy," she said, batting her eyelashes at Harry, who could only hope it wasn't obvious how red he had become.

"Dude," another kid spoke up, gaining everyone's attention at once, but he was only talking to Harry. "That kid was so excited to tell you about her first period. Talk about being obsessive! I can see her hanging your photos everywhere in her bedroom."

Everyone burst out laughing at what that boy had just said, everyone including his crush. So even though Harry didn't find any humor in the mean joke, he cracked a nervous grin. He felt so guilty afterwards though; if his Bambi had been there and they had said those words to her face, he might've reacted differently. But she wasn't there, Kathy was, leaving him no other choice but to play along.

When Harry looked up and met Kathy's blue eyes, she gave him a shrug as if to tell him to just ignore his friends. But how could he when they were all laughing at him? For a teenage boy, having a good reputation mattered a lot; and without a doubt, having a lot of friends was more important than having a real one. So those simple words the other kids had said caused him to overthink for the rest of the day. And from that day, the way he saw his little neighbor had also changed.

All of a sudden, he felt like it was inappropriate for a fifteen-year-old to spend that much time with an eleven-year-old. First off, people would make fun of him. Second, girls like Kathy would assume he wasn't mature enough for them. It was such a shame that both of those reasons were about him, and not Y/N. He didn't bother to think about how it would make her feel when he decided to keep his distance with her.

At that point, Harry didn't know how much he would regret it later on.

.

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Checking his watch for the third time or so, Harry leaned back against the car, sighing as he looked up. He tried to find the window on the fifth floor that was Y/N's bedroom only to see if her light was on. It showed just how impatient he was getting. Fifteen minutes more and he began to fear that she might've forgotten about their "date" to the musical. So he decided to send a quick text to make sure she remembered. It didn't take more than a second for the word seen to appear and three dots to pop up in the chat box.

⌲ Bambi: The show starts at 9. It's only 7PM now?

Shit. He thought to himself and quickly opened the photo of the tickets she'd sent. She was right. He was too excited to see her that he thought the show started one hour earlier. Embarrassed, Harry quickly wrote her another text.

⌲ Sorry. But I'm here anyway so can I come up?

⌲ Bambi: Wait. I'll be right down with you.

⌲ Bambi: Btw, park your car somewhere. We'll walk.

Y/N suggested that they go for a drink first and then to the theater. He hadn't seen her so excited in a long time, she talked and laughed a lot. It wasn't her everyday personality but he thought he liked that side of her, he liked it a lot.

They walked side by side, two meters apart, him having both hands in his pockets and her with her arms folded to hold onto herself. Those defensive gestures might keep them from running into each other's embrace, yet it didn't stop their thoughts from wandering way too far from reality. He took a glance at her and turned away as she did the same. They had been walking for five minutes without exchanging a single word, and the silence had become way too suffocating.

"Why is this street so dark?" Harry finally spoke as he looked around and realized there was no one else but the two of them. The moon was nowhere to be seen, and the only source of light there was a dim streetlamp which went on and off every second.

Harry had checked the weather forecast before leaving his house and it said there was a 70% chance of rain that night. No wonder the stars in the sky were nonexistent, same as the moon, they were all hidden under thick blankets of dark clouds.

Not answering Harry's question, Y/N walked fast forward, taking a turn into an alley as she nodded her head, giving him signal to hurry along. She told him they couldn't take the direct route to the bar because it would be suicidal to walk down the street together at London's most busy hour. When they went out for dinner with her father and Marcy, they had tried to be as lowkey as they could've, but somehow still ran into his fans. This time, they had to be even more secretive, though it was admittedly tiring to literally hide in the dark.

"Do you always walk that far when you're out with a girl?" Y/N pointed out, making Harry realize he was keeping a considerable distance from her.

"Yeah, well, I don't even hold hands on a date unless it's for PR."

"Sucks to be you." She laughed. But he agreed. It sucked to be him sometimes.

In silence, Harry followed the girl as they walked along the rough cobbled road that caused his feet to ache. The abandoned blocks on both sides were tight together and loomed over the pair, creating an illusion that the alleyway was longer and more narrow than it actually was. The sounds of their footsteps ricochetted from one wall to the other, somehow causing his heart to beat in sync with his steady paces.

In the half light of the alley, his Bambi appeared so small. To answer the question in his head, she broke the silence, "I don't usually take this route when I go out alone at night."

"Good." He breathed out a heavy chuckle, feeling relieved. "I meant to ask."

They carried on walking, taking a few more turns. All those narrow streets looked almost the same, all dark and grey, causing Harry to think if Y/N had left him there to walk back on his own, he would've spent the rest of his life searching for the way out.

"We're almost there," she assured him.

Soon he noticed the yellow beams of the only lamppost ahead, and Y/N sighed in relief as she pointed to the metal door at the end of the road, saying that was the back entrance of the bar. She walked in without hesitation, pulling Harry along, so he assumed she had been there plenty of times before.

The place was hundreds of conversations told in loud voices, all mixed up with the loud rock song blasting on the speaker which nobody really paid attention to. Y/N made her way through the sweaty bodies, making sure her fingers stayed locked around Harry's wrist as they headed straight towards the counter to order some drinks.

"Andrew!"

"Little girl!" The big fat bartender laughed loudly when he spotted her face in the crowd. "I can hardly recognize you when you're sober."

Y/N rolled her eyes as she huffed and pulled a chair to sit down, telling Harry to do the same. It took the actor a moment to figure out why Andrew and everything there looked so familiar. That was the same bar he'd come to pick her up when she was shit-faced on that counter and threw up all over his shoes. He opened his mouth to speak, yet was interrupted by the loud bearded man.

"Glad to see you two back together again," said the man while looking at Harry. "The last time you broke up, she literally turned my bar into her second home."

"But we never dated."

"Don't fool me, little girl." Andrew scoffed, pointing a finger at Y/N. "If your pretty boyfriend hadn't come save your ass, I would've tossed you out on the street that night."

Harry and Y/N exchanged funny looks in silence. Instead of trying to explain, they just let Andrew believe what he wanted to believe and ordered a pint of beer for each.

Most of the people at that bar were blue-collar workers and middle-aged men who'd had too much to drink to remember who they were, let alone recognize movie star Harry Styles sitting just a few feet away from them. For the first time in the longest time, Harry finally felt like he was invisible and he actually loved the feeling of it. It seemed like Y/N was the only one there who knew him, and he felt free to drink as much as he liked and laughed as hard as he wanted. They sat and talked about life, his movies, her job at the library, and many other things that mattered to them. Then it was finally 8:30, they paid for the drinks and said goodbye to Andrew so as to get to the show on time.

Once again, the pair took the same dark route they had before, but this time instead of walking far apart, she had her arm around his waist and his on her shoulders. They were singing random songs out loud, knowing the only creatures they might disturb on that abandoned street were the rats and cockroaches in the sewers. But their ignorance didn't get to last for too long. As they took the final turn to get back to the main street, Harry immediately spotted a familiar face.

Under the lamppost stood a man, tall and slim, with a cigarette between his lips. He was too busy talking on the phone with someone to notice them. So Harry grabbed Y/N by the arms and pulled her back into the dark alleyway. She intended to ask when he pressed her against the wall, but with a finger to his lips, he signaled her to stay silent. Slowly, he poked his head out to check on the stranger, making Y/N frown in confusion.

"That man out there works for an online magazine that write gossip about celebrities," he whispered, now turning back to her, one hand resting on the wall by her head, the other on her neck. "Maybe we should wait a bit for him to leave. Can't let him see us together."

Y/N pressed her lips into a firm line, nodding her head to let him know she got it. She fought him a lot, so it was nice to see her listen to him even just for once. And she looked too cute for him to feel unfortunate that they got stuck in that situation.

For a moment, he got lost in the hues of her eyes. He told himself to stay calm, still couldn't fight the urge to caress her lips with his thumb. He thought about chewing on them if she would just let him kiss her. But knowing her, he didn't have much hope for getting a taste of those lips anytime soon.

Just as a drop of crystal-clear water appeared on his skin, Harry quickly lifted both hands above Y/N's head to shield her from the raindrops coming down. She gave him a smile, as if the thought of a rain excited her as it used to when she was a child. He watched her beam grow, unable to stop one from forming upon his face. However, the drops became heavier really soon. Harry poked his head out of the alleyway once again, but the annoying reporter was still standing there because he was safe with the roof above his head. Harry sighed in frustration, but Y/N only giggled. The sound of her laugh eased his mind as he stepped closer, almost sandwiching her between his body and the brick wall so the rain couldn't drench all of her, at least not as much as it was doing to him.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, their faces so close that even with the sound thunder, he could still hear her breath get caught in her throat. Y/N cupped his face, wiping the wet strands out of his forehead. Her eyelids flutter as she stared at the droplets running down his pink lips.

"Why are you sorry?" She asked, laughing nervously when her body shivered from the cold. Even though it was pointless at this point to shield her from the downpour, Harry still kept one arm above her head, his other tightened the grip on her waist.

"I ruined our date."

"Our date?"

"Oh, fuck...I mean..." He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head and laughing lowly. "Shit. Never mind."

Y/N said nothing. The girl couldn't come up with anything to speak so she pulled him in. The water ran down their faces to where their lips collided. Neither seemed to care as they tasted the cold drops against the tips of their tongues. Harry pushed his lips in more firmly, and the intoxicating wave running through him caused his head to spin in circles. There was something so heavenly about a kiss in the rain, a tender yet intense moment that just wouldn't wait. The couple melted into each other, letting the water soak through to chill their skin, like a rebellion act against nature.

The universe could bring the storm, but the sunshine within could come through just as strong.

.

.

.

When Harry pulled his car over in front of his house, his first instinct was to look up at the highest window next door to check if Y/N had gone to bed yet. It was almost midnight then but he could still see her shadow pacing back and forth inside her room, and so he assumed she must've waited until the last minute to prepare for an exam again.

"What is it?" Spoke the girl sitting in the passenger seat, as she leaned over to see what her date was looking at, and why he was smiling. Harry just straight off told Kathy that it was nothing, and got out to come open the door for her. His mum was already asleep, so he asked Kathy to be quiet as he took her hand and led her into his house. The teenagers headed straight to the backyard, where they could be alone and didn't have to worry about waking up Anne.

Turning on the fairy lights on the porch, Harry set up two chairs looking out to the garden, and asked his date to sit down with him. But that wasn't what Kathy had in mind. Her attention was on something else. With a smile she pointed to the big tree standing right by the fence, and asked him, "is that your treehouse?"

"Yeah. My dad built it," he answered.

Harry almost included 'before he left', but he didn't think Kathy was ready to hear about his family drama when it was just their first date.

"Let's go up there."

"Go up there?" Harry widened his eyes at her suggestion, yet the girl already seemed so excited.

"Yeah. I wanna see your treehouse." She giggled and leaned in to study his facial expression, probably wondering why he seemed so unsure. "Do you have secrets that you don't want me to know?" Kathy joked, laughing slightly, but Harry only shook his head as a response. "Or am I not special enough?"

"You are, you are special," he said fast, laughing nervously.

Without a doubt, he liked Kathy very much. He would be insane if he didn't, because she was the definition of perfect. She was beautiful, and sweet, and smart, like the main girl in those romantic movies he'd watched and books he'd read. And to have someone popular and pretty like her as a girlfriend was certainly a dream come true. However, nobody else had entered that treehouse but him and Y/N. It wasn't just his treehouse, it was theirs. So even though Y/N was studying in her room and wouldn't be able to see him bring Kathy to their fort, he felt guilty about it still.

"I'm too exhausted to climb all the way up there," he lied. But Kathy just breathed out a laugh and took his wrist as she told him he was just lazy.

"Come on, Harry. Let's go," she urged him, pulling the boy with her before he could come up with another way to say no. And Harry didn't make an effort to stop her then. He let her get on the robe ladder first and followed right after to make sure she didn't fall. When they finally got up there, he switched on the lightbulb and stepped aside for his date to enter the world that was initially just his and Y/N's.

"Wow, 'do not enter'. Trying to be badass, huh?" Kathy giggled as she read the messy handwriting on the door. Little did she know, it wasn't Harry's.

The girl took a look around the tiny space, observing every little corner that belonged to her date's childhood, everything that used to matter a lot, or still mattered to him. It didn't take her too long to spot four simple words carved onto the back entrance.

"Y/N and Harry only?" She squinted her eyes, and turned to give Harry a questioning look. "Is Y/N that little girl who lives next door to you?"

"Yup." He shrugged, shoving both hands into his pants pockets. "This used to be our treehouse."

Used to. Harry couldn't believe he'd said that. If Y/N was there, she would be so upset, and the thought of it made him feel terrible.

"Our?" Kathy playfully stuck out her bottom lip, pouting as she said, "so I'm not the first girl you brought here?"

"She's just a kid." He chuckled, shaking his head, and the smile soon returned to Kathy's face. Slowly, she walked up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and Harry felt his heart racing faster as his arms finally tightened around her small waist. Their foreheads rested against each other; and he let himself get carried away by the deep blue of her eyes.

"Sit. I have something for you." He sat down on the floor, pulling her down with him and reached out to grab the dusty guitar he'd left in the corner for too long. The last time he picked it up was when his Bambi asked him to play her a song. Of course he didn't mention it to Kathy, so the girl assumed she was the first and only girl he'd ever sung to.

The sad truth was, she wasn't even his first love, or even his love. She was just a girl he had a crush on at seventeen, the age at which not everyone could tell the difference between love and physical attraction. Harry and Kathy had their first kiss that night in the treehouse, but a few months later, they called it off because their feelings just weren't the same anymore. After the breakup, they never spoke to each other again, and it didn't take Harry too long to erase most memories he had with her.

But somehow, he couldn't do the same to the little girl he had abandoned.

.

.

.

The rain came in waves, splattering across the pavement and beating down on every hard surface. Soon the entire city had been hidden by silver sheets of water. As pedestrians dashed for cover, the hiss of car tires on glistening roads was competing with the wild howling of the wind. The scene was pure madness. But right there, in Harry's car, was the opposite of what was happening outside in the pouring rain.

He kissed her and the world fell away. Their heavy breaths had fogged up all the windows, obscuring the movements of two soaked body in the backseat of the steamy vehicle. She was sitting on his lap, grinding against the hard bulge under his wet jeans, earning a heavy groan that got stuck in his throat when he tossed his head back. His fingers pressed hard onto the exposed skin above the waistband of her tennis skirt.

"That man took too long to leave," she moaned into his mouth, hands hiking up his shirt as she was desperate for some skin contact. The thin fabric of her panties didn't really do its job because he could feel her heat burning through all those layers and knew she wasn't just dripping from the rain. It was killing him to not tear off her clothes and take her right there. He desperately wanted to, he knew she wanted him to. His mind tried to reason with him that once they'd had sex, they could never go back. But now she was moaning his name non-stop as he was sucking on her neck, it was impossible for them to stop at this point.

"We can't...not here." His breath hitched up as he clung to her hips, trying to push her away, but she grasped his neck harder, forcing him to open his eyes and look into hers. The look she was giving him could melt him into the puddle that had already formed on the leather seat because of their drenched clothes.

"Want you now," she begged, hot mouth sucking the spot right below his ear, causing him to moan out, and the sound to Y/N was just like a ballad made from heaven.

"Bambi-" She cut him off by kissing his lips. He kissed back, both hands moving to her neck and hair.

"Want you to fuck me," she whispered, pouting like a little girl, but now he knew she wasn't one anymore. "Don't you want that? To fuck me?"

"I do, fuck, I do." Harry loved and hated her dirty mouth at the same time, but he still managed to use a fraction of self-control he'd got left to reason with her, as well as himself.

"Just...don't want our first time to...god...to be like this. Not here." He tossed his head back when she kissed his jawline, neck, and collarbone. "Let's get you home." He shook his head, one arm squeezing her torso, but she only kissed him harder, leaving him breathless. "Baby, be good."

Y/N's lips curved into a smile as she heard that nickname. That was the first time he'd ever called her "baby" and she almost begged him to never stop repeating that word.

"Shh." She brought her finger up to his lips and kissed them again, before pulling away a bit so she wouldn't forget to breathe. "Don't worry about me. I've done this before."

"Fuck. No need to remind me that." He released a rough groan when she bit his earlobe, trying not to think about all the other men who had felt what he was feeling then. Their breathing then became rough and fast as she tugged on his shirt, and finally pulling it over his head to do the same to her sweater. She didn't have her bra on, so Harry's eyes nearly fell out when he saw her bare chest for the first time.

There was a vulnerability in Y/N's eyes as she felt him gazing at her naked form. With that look on his face, it almost felt like Harry had just seen a woman's breasts for the first time in his life, so she couldn't help but giggle lowly. His eyes didn't linger too long there, just enough for her to know how beautiful she was to him. She was literally trembling when she took his hand and placed it on one breast. He squeezed it gently, feeling the softness of her skin which was turning warm under his palm. One hand at the back of his neck, she urged his face down. Soon he opened his mouth and gently suckled, causing his name to spill out from her mouth, mixing up with wet moans that got his jeans tightened even more.

She was his drug. All it took was one touch and the intoxication was instant. Her scent became more prominent in the tiny space of his backseat and the fragranced hot air got all the blood in his body rushing to one body part.

Before they knew how it happened, they were both naked and their bodies were moving softly together as if they were one. Their tongues entwined in a sloppy kiss when he was finally inside, changing her breathing with every hard thrust as if her moans fueled him to go harder and deeper.

"No...don't...Bambi, look at me." He held her face to demand eye contact, not slowing down as she begged him not to. She struggled to keep her eyes open but never gave into the temptation to get carried away all at once. He watched her face twist with pleasure as his lips parted, hands guiding her hip to move her faster ontop of him.

"Feels good."

"Yea—Yeah? " He furrowed his brows as she did the same, clutching his hair a bit tighter.

"More." She moaned, nodding fast, not to look anywhere else but his green eyes.

"Such a good girl for me. Almost there, baby. C'mon," he coaxed her, capturing her mouth with his own and she caught him by surprise by nipping his bottom lip between her teeth. He was weak for her, entirely defeated under her. If she wanted him to beg, he would, as long as she promised to never stop until they both came undone.

When it happened, Y/N almost forgot how to breathe. She slammed one hand against the foggy window on her side, arching her back when he pounded into her. She couldn't care less if her scream could break the glass as she tossed her head back and dug her nails into his back. Harry released into the condom just a few seconds after her as he finally slowed down and kissed her hard on the lips. The stayed there, panting until they caught our breaths, sweaty foreheads against one another.

It was insane how they managed to get back to her flat, let alone strip each other down again once they had entered the living room. This time, he took her hard against her bedroom wall, still in their dripping clothes, too aroused to care or even make it to the bed. After the third orgasm that followed right after her second, Harry had to catch Y/N's limb body before she collapsed and carried her to the shower. They just stood there leaning onto each other for support, her head on his chest as he washed her hair, letting the warm water run down their flushed skin to wash the rain water, sweat, and the smell of sex all down the drain.

It wasn't until they had returned to the bedroom and began drying off that realization sank back in for both. They just stood there, staring at one another in silent. Harry had only a towel wrapped around his waist now that his clothes were all wet. And Y/N was wearing just a t-shirt big and long enough to look like a dress on her. The feeling was strange, yet new, and exciting.

It was Y/N who took the first steps forward, closing the distance between them two to hug him tight. Without saying a word, he did the same, sniffing in the apple scent of her still soaked hair.

"Stay the night," she said at last. And he happily nodded, squeezing her warm body tight.

.

.

.

Harry had been pacing back and forth for nearly a minute before he finally gained enough courage to ring on his neighbor's doorbell. The boy blew air through his mouth, hollowing up his cheeks as he heard footsteps coming his way. And when the door opened, it wasn't the fourteen-year-old he was there to see, it was her mother. Tam Y/L/N greeted the boy next door with a casual, yet heart-warming smile.

"Harry, look how grown you are! I haven't seen you around in so long," she said. He already knew that it'd been a while since he last came here, but to hear it from someone else made him feel worse somehow. "I heard you got the scholarship that you wanted. Your mother must be so proud."

"Thank you, Mrs. Y/L/N...Is Y/N home?"

"Yeah, she's upstairs. Want me to call her for you?"

"No." He stopped her just as she turned away. "Uhm...I'm leaving tomorrow. I think I should let her know. Can you tell her that for me?"

"Sweetie..." The corners of Tam's lips sank into a frown. "She doesn't even know about the scholarship."

Right. Of course she didn't know. The last time they talked was a year ago when she asked him to take her to that concert but he refused. He couldn't believe it had been that long. They had been two strangers for a year now, so to see her again and tell her he was gonna leave Holmes Chapel and wasn't sure when and if he was ever coming back would make him seem like a jerk. So even though Harry's initial intention when he rang the doorbell was to talk to her in person, but now the thought of it scared him a lot. Harry stood there, stuttering in front of her mother, trying to come up with an excuse so she would help him out by breaking this news to Y/N.

But the woman spoke before he could, "Harry, you know her. If she hears this from me she'll assume she doesn't matter to you." Then came a pause. "Do you care about her?"

He didn't answer that inquiry. But he didn't have to.

"Then I think you should tell her yourself. She really misses you," Tam said, giving the eighteen-year-old boy another smile.

She was right. Even though he had been keeping distance with Y/N for that long, he couldn't walk away knowing she would hate him and think she didn't mean anything to him. After all, she was still the girl he'd got into a fight for and risked getting sick as he walked in the rain to keep her safe. Even if his head told him she didn't matter, his heart knew she did.

After a moment, he finally nodded, and Tam didn't hesitate to turn her head and shouted upstairs,"Y/N, Harry is here to see you!"

"Wait," he spoke after a second thought. "Can you...can you tell her to meet me at our treehouse?"

"Sure, love," the woman said without asking why.

Harry thanked her and walked away quickly before Y/N came down and saw his face. He needed time to think about how to break the news without breaking her heart, and maybe his own.

It had been so long since he last visited their treehouse, and it was quite embarrassing how he had to struggle at first because he'd forgotten how to climb. He sat there on the floor like the night they first met, but this time he was nervous because he knew she was coming.

Harry turned his head as soon as he heard Y/N's voice at the entrance. He got up from the dusty wooden floor, smiling at the girl. Her eyes were still as bright as he remembered. He'd never told her, but all the emotions she was trying to hide always showed through her big eyes and gave away what she was actually feeling. But this time, it was hope that he saw in them. And he knew the goodbye was gonna be twice as hard as how he'd imagined it would be.

They sat down side by side on the edge of their little house with bare feet dangling in the air, listening to the cricket singing their summer song. He knew he was going to miss this, he was going to miss Holmes Chapel, and mostly he was going to miss her. Y/N seemed pretty quiet that night, so Harry had to initiate a conversation, asking her about school, about Celine, about her parent's constant fights. He also filled her in with most of the things that had happened to her in the past year, and kept her updated on his sister and his mum.

But eventually, he must say what he was there to say, "I'm leaving tomorrow morning. To London."

From the way her body stiffened as she heard those words, Harry had expected a different reaction from his little neighbor. However, she only laughed and asked him if he was joking. He wished it had been a joke, then it wouldn't have killed him to say it out loud. He told her about the scholarship, about being accepted into his dream school, and now he could finally follow his dream to become a famous actor. But she was quiet the whole time. He didn't know what she was thinking, he never did.

"I'll come back and visit you next summer," he said, not even sure if he could stay true to those words. But at least they would ease her mind. "I wanted to see you one last time before I left...Bambi, say something."

His Bambi turned to look at him with glistening eyes, and he silently begged her not to dissolve into tears because he wouldn't know what to do. But knowing Y/N, he was sure that she wouldn't allow herself to cry in front of him now that he was basically just a familiar stranger.

"I'm really happy for you, H," she said at last, putting on a smile. So he smiled back at her, reaching out to tuck a strand behind her ear. He told her to be strong when he wasn't around, and take care of herself, though she'd been doing just fine without him in the past year. And deep down, he hoped she would find a boy who wouldn't mind getting a black eye to make her happy. He couldn't be that boy, not anymore.

"This treehouse is all yours now," he told her. "Please look after it?"

"I will," she gave him her words. From the determination written on her face, he knew she would keep her promise, and somehow that made him happy. Maybe because he knew she didn't hated him like he assumed she would.

It was getting late, and he had to catch a train before sunrise. So Harry said his last goodbye to his little neighbor, telling her that they both should get some rest. But instead of letting him go, she cut him off just as he tried to say something else. "Harry...Can I ask you for one last favor?"

"Anything, kid. Tell me."

"Can you...Uhm...Will you..." She exhaled deeply and took his hand in hers. "Will you be my first kiss?"

The grin slowly faded from his face when he realized she was actually serious. "I don't think I should be your first kiss, Bambi. You should save it for the boy you like."

"But you...are the boy I like."

Harry was surprised to hear those words, yet not really. A part of him had always known she'd had a crush on him, but he assumed it would just disappear into thin air real soon. But after a year of acting like they didn't know each other, how could she still call him the boy she liked?

He wanted to lighten up the mood without hurting her feelings, yet he struggled to come up with what to say. But Y/N was impatient as always. She couldn't wait for a reply, probably because she knew she would never get one. So she just followed her instinct and cupped his face to bring her lips to his, only to pull away a second later. It was barely what one would call a kiss, but Harry was in shock and he couldn't even flinch. A fourteen-year-old had just kissed him on the lips. How could he possibly react in this situation? So he chose not to react.

He just sat there and watched her run back to the rope ladder. And the next moment she was gone, for good this time. He didn't think too much about the kiss even though it did put him in shock. But maybe it was for the best if her last memory of him was their moment on the treehouse and not him leaving her without saying goodbye. At least now he knew she wouldn't hate him forever.

She had been a big part of his childhood, and would always be a part of him. So as Harry watched her run back to her house, he truly hoped if they never met again, she would keep him in her memory if not in her heart.

For him, he would also do the same.

.

.

.

Harry woke up in the middle of the night, reaching for the warm body lying next to him, only to find the bed cold and empty. In an instant, he became frantic, thinking Y/N had gone. But it took him a second to calm down and remember he was at her place, not his. The girl hadn't even left the bed. She was just sitting up, holding her knees to her chest and staring at the window. She stayed very still when he crawled to her side.

"Bambi?" His voice was dreadfully quiet. "Are you...Why are you crying, love?" The left side of his chest ached when he saw a tear running down from the corner of her eyes. Slowly she turned to look at him, her lips trembled and her shoulders heaved with emotion when he pulled her to his chest.

"Is it because of me?" He sadly questioned, assuming it must be him. Maybe he shouldn't have been too rough when they had sex, maybe she regretted sleeping with him, maybe she was gonna tell him to leave and never see her again. His whole body tensed up in fear thinking all of those maybes could be true. But eventually, she shook her head no.

"I forgot my cup of tea," she whispered.

That answer left him confused. "Your cup of tea?"

Y/N nodded, staying utterly lifeless in his arms. "It keeps me from having nightmares."

"Is that why you always drink tea before bed?"

"Hmm," she hummed and buried her face into his chest, inhaling his cent as if to remind herself that she'd still got him. After a moment of silence and ragged breathing, she told him, "I saw my mum. She was standing right by a car. But before I could get to her, the car exploded, and all that was left was fire and smoke and the sound of my own screams..."

"Shh." He stroked her hair, pressing butterfly kisses to her forehead. It was then that he realized she was clinging to the locket he'd given her, somehow it put him at ease knowing his birthday gift could lend her some kind of emotional support when she felt afraid. "Want me to make you a cup of tea, love?"

"No. Just...don't let me go."

"Alright."

Harry laid her back down, this time with her back to his chest. When they clasped each other in a warm hug, Y/N could finally be calm enough to listen to the sound of the gentle night rain outside, feeling his chest rising and falling against her back, their breaths in unison.

For a second, Harry wished they could share their hearts as easily as sharing their body heat. He couldn't remember the last time he let another get close to him like this, but Y/N was special; though at the same time, being with her felt like carrying a time bomb. One wrong move and he was a goner, yet every time she tried to leave, it was him who convinced her to stay.

"I'll go to the wedding with you." Her voice pierced right through the silence of the room, causing his eyes to fly open. Y/N thought he didn't hear her, so she repeated the sentence once more, adding, "if your offer still stands."

"It does." He chuckled hoarsely. "What changed your mind though?"

"Thought I should stop running away from reality." That was her answer, nothing more. He didn't really get what she actually meant, but he didn't think she wanted him to ask, so he decided to let it go.

"When are you gonna leave?" She asked.

"Not tonight. I'm staying tonight."

Harry wasn't sure if when she said "leave", she meant him leaving her flat before she woke up, or him leaving her for good. But it didn't really matter. That answer would do for both meanings. Because no matter what happened to them in the future, he knew it wasn't gonna end tonight.

"Good," Y/N murmured with a tiny sigh, making Harry chuckle. His eyes gradually slipped closed, and a few minutes later, he went limp.

[justallamaimaginingthings]

Hey I was wonder if you could write something about being Robert Baratheons daughter (not wanting the throne) and falling in love with Jorah? I love you and your writing btw

A/n: Thank you so very much!! Hope you like it! Please feel free to request anything else and/or leave a comment

Words: 1760 (I’m a hoe for Jorah fluff eheheheh)

Jorah had heard of the Princess who fled. She was Robert Baratheon’s only daughter from his first marriage to Mariah Martell, who disappeared shortly after Robert sat on the Iron throne and married Cercei Lannister. No one had seen her or heard from her ever again and most people assumed she was dead, Jorah being one of them. After all what else would they think? She was just a young girl when she run away, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

You were Y/n Baratheon and you were very much alive despite the rumors. You loved your father more than anything, him being the only family you had as your mother had died in childbirth. Things started to go wrong when he became king. No matter how much you loved him, there was no denying he’d make a terrible King. You tried to talk some sense into him but he wouldn’t listen to you. His soon-to-be wife knew you would get in her way of controlling Robert, so she formed some ridiculous charges against you which people didn’t have a choice but to believe. That’s when you knew you have had and enough, so you ran away and never looked back.

Thirteen years later, you had earned your place in the khalasaar as a valued and respected warrior. Over the years you had become friends with Khal Drogo, considering you were around the same age when his father took you in.

Being one of his closest friends and almost family, there was no way you’d miss his wedding day. Finally the ceremony was over and the gifts were presented to the couple. You saw a man with dirty blonde hair giving his present to Drogo’s wife, Daenerys, and smirked at his boldness. Drogo glared at him but he didn’t seem to care. He bowed and turned around to take a seat next to Daenerys’ brother. After they were done talking you decided to try and strike a conversation with him.

“That was a bold move, you know” you said startling him

“My gift was meant for a Targaryen” the mysterious man replied, not taken aback by your observation.

“Try explaining that to the Khal. He didn’t look very pleased” you continued causing him to let out a light chuckle

“It’s rare to meet a Dothraki who speaks the common tongue” he noted

“Actually, I’m not from here, same as you, may I guess”

“Jorah Mormont” he introduced himself

“Keira Rivers, but the Dothraki call me Eyelli” you said smiling at him. For some reason you felt bad lying to him, but you knew you couldn’t tell him your real name. Only two people knew your true identity and one of them was dead. You spent the entire night talking and sharing your adventures. By the end of the night you were sure you had made a new friend and you had a good feeling about him. Who knew, maybe one day you could tell him the truth.

As time passed you got to know Jorah and soon you became close friends. He told you about his adventures after he was forced to leave Westeros. You told him as much about yourself as you could without revealing your identity. At first you did it because you weren’t sure if you could trust him but after a while you were certain he could keep your secret if you asked him to.

Meanwhile you had been assigned as Daenerys’ personal guard which only resulted in getting closer to her. Your friendship bloomed fast and she was the first to know your real name. You expected her to get angry or see you as her enemy but she didn’t.

After two weeks of riding you finally made camp and you were talking with Daenerys in her tent.

“You know at some point he will figure it out. It’s better to hear it from you than find out himself” Daenerys had been trying to convince you to tell Jorah the truth for a while now, but you always managed to cut the conversation short.

“He’s probably going to hate me, Danny. I’ve been practically lying to him since day one. He doesn’t even know my real name” you exclaimed trying to underline the seriousness of the situation.

“Just talk to him, Y/n. He’ll understand” you opened your mouth to say something when you heard someone clearing their throat. You turned around only to see Jorah staring at you. He had been looking for Daenerys in order to update her of the khalasaar’s situation but had unintentionally ended up listening part of your conversation.

“I’ll leave you to talk” Danny excused herself and got out of the tent. At that moment you wished you could disappear. A feeling of pure dread and panic was flooding your senses and it took every inch of determination in you not to run away. You looked everywhere but at him, when you heard him approaching.

“How much did you hear?” You asked even though you were afraid of the answer.

“Enough” he answered and took another step closer to you.

“I know I should have told you, I’m sorry-”

“Why didn’t you?” He asked. You were afraid he’d be mad, but his voice was completely void of any emotion and that was even worse.

“I was scared. I know you pretty much hate my family and I didn’t want you to hate me too” For a moment Jorah looked at you confused. You had never mentioned your family, how could you know that he hated them? That’s when it clicked. Daenerys had called you Y/n. Y/n Baratheon, the princess who fled. Everything made sense to him then, your knowledge of Westeros, the ladylike manners you were trying so hard to conceal and most of all your secrecy. “Please say something” you said in the verge of tears. You had become so attached to the exiled Knight that the thought of him hating you seemed unbearable.

Even at that moment, you couldn’t help admiring his features. His eyes were a mesmerizing shade of blue. He may have a few lines in his face but he was definitely one of the most handsome men you had ever met. You scolded yourself for thinking like that in such a moment. He was your best friend after all, right? Your thoughts were interrupted by Jorah’s voice.

“Princess” he said bowing.

“Jorah, please. I’m the same person you know. I don’t want anything to change between us” you pleaded placing your hand on his cheek.

“You are a member of the royal family, your grace” he stated. That was one of the reasons you had left in the first place, so people would treat you normally and not like you were different than them. You flinched at the title and backed away.

“Fuck the royal family. We’re not in Westeros anymore. Nobody cares about my last name here. Hells, that’s why I left in first place, I can’t let my fucking name take the best thing that’s happened to me since I left. I can’t lose you” by the end your voice was less than a whisper. Jorah looked at you taken aback by your sudden outburst. He wrapped his arms around you pulling you into a hug. You rested your head on his chest and sighted.

“You won’t lose me” he said kissing the top of your head. At that moment you felt happy for the first time since you arrived in Essos. You knew there was no point denying it, you were in love with your best friend.

Extra

After finding out the truth about your identity, his attitude towards you didn’t change one bit, except from the fact that he started to call you “Princess” which you hated and loved at the same time. The title had shifted from a formal address to a friendly nickname and you were more than thankful for that.

As time went by he found himself more and more attached to you. Usually he was very reserved and closed to new people but you had earned your place in his heart with your witty and kind personality. The place of a friend, or at least that’s what he told himself. Back in Westeros Jorah had been married twice, but never been in love. Both marriages had been arranged and broke off rather quickly. That was one reason why he was having a hard time figuring out what he felt about you.

You made him happy, that was certain. However he knew a woman like you would never consider him anything more than a friend. Deep down he knew he was afraid. Afraid of letting you get close to him and then hurting you, afraid that he wasn’t good enough for you.

So, he called you his friend even though you acted like husband and wife. You’d spend most of your free time together and when one of you were busy the other would always help, you always rode side by side while traveling, when the khalassar made camp temporarily you’d share a tent or sleep next to each other and when it got cold at night he’d offer you his cape. Winter was coming and a light change in the weather was obvious. That night happened to be extremely cold making you shiver in your sleep. Jorah being the gentleman he is, took off his cape and covered you with it.

“Jorah is that you?” You mumbled in your sleep

“Just go back to sleep princess” he replied. You didn’t know if it was the cold or the mindlessness of being half asleep but you scooted over to him. He froze when he felt how close you actually were.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s cold” you replied before falling asleep. He didn’t want to move in fear of waking you up again but at some point he had to. His heart was threatening to beat out of his chest only for it to melt when he felt you snuggling up to him and resting your head in his chest.

“What am I going to do with you?” He whispered at he placed an arm on your waist. Jorah didn’t sleep much that night. He was preoccupied with thoughts of you, from the day he met you, when he found out who you were and how things were after that. The sun had almost risen when his eyes closed and he finally fell asleep. He couldn’t deny it anymore, he was in love.

[scarofthewind]

Brahms Heelshire x Reader

A/N: I have been wanting to write this for a while now. I will start back on requests after this has been posted. (REQUESTS ARE OPEN). Female Reader! This is ‘A’ for the masterlist under Brahms Warnings: Foul language. (This is really long btw)

“The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart , and all they can do is stare blankly.” -F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby. 

You had prepared for everything except rain. Cold, hard rain that beat down on you mercilessly as you slammed the broken down car’s door shut; suitcase by your feet and bag on your arm. “This can’t be happening.” You sighed, looking around for a sign of civilization anywhere near the English countryside you were located at. 

There was no bother in even checking your phone because it died while giving directions to the hotel you were supposed to be arriving at soon. Biting back tears of frustration, you pulled your suitcase behind you, walking the path made by cars, trying to find your way through the heavily wooded area before it gets dark outside. “Of all places to get stranded!” You mumbled angrily, your shoes getting stuck in the mud as you walked quickly.

Taking time away from home to have a fresher mind was one thing, but having your publishing company tell you that you needed a new start was another. The pages in your bag were no doubt ruined, and that only made you want to give up your hike to shelter. However, you weren’t someone who quit easily. Not when it came to making money to pay for your rent, that is. 

After what seemed liked hours, you came across a metal gate, the latch was rusted and the front mail slot had a name you could barely make out. Your eyes looked up at the huge house that stood past the gate and you continued inside, managing to break the latch in the process. 

Practically running to the front door, you knocked hard, hoping whoever was inside, could hear you despite the rain. “Hello! Please help me! My car broke down and I have no where else to stay!” You shivered from the soaked clothes you had on, your eyes stinging with warm tears as you feared for the worst. “Please! Hello?! Anybody?” You tried to open the door but it was locked.

The sound of cries where what made Brahms’ heart beat fast in his chest. Ever since Greta had left, he’d felt no reason to hide in the walls anymore, so he sat up off the couch and looked out the window; careful to not be seen. His eyes wandered over your dripping and shaking frame. “I don’t have much, but I’ll give you anything I can. Please just let me in.” You sniffled, wiping at your eyes and letting your bag fall off your shoulder.

Cursing under his breath, Brahms quickly unlocked the door for you before running and going to hide in the walls. As soon as you heard the door unlock, you turned the knob and went inside, dragging your suitcase and bag behind you. When the door closed, an echo went through the house. “Hello?” You asked, looking around but not seeing anyone. “Thank you for letting me in. My name is (Y/N) and I’m...” you bit your lip, running a hand through your dripping hair. “I’m lost.” 

Brahms watched you from a mirror across the hall, his gaze following you every step you took. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say this place was empty.” You said aloud, looking at the dust that collected on the dark wood linings of the house. 

Silently, you took your suitcase upstairs, finding a room that had a bed and bathroom. You grew excited when the shower’s hot water turned on and undressed, stepping inside the warm water and letting the cold be taken away. Not taking too long, you finished your shower and left the bathroom, changing into warmer clothes and pulling out your wet pages. “What am I supposed to do?” Your heart hurt thinking of worse thoughts like getting fired. 

However, your thoughts were interrupted by a soft thud in the room across from yours. “Hello?” You asked, getting up and going to the door and opening it slowly. Your eyes widened for a second when they met a pair of glass ones, sitting on a small bed. 

It was a doll. 

Your breath caught in your throat as you pushed the door open and looked around. This was, or used to be a child’s room, you thought, moving around and looking at all the toys. Turning around, you looked to the bed, the doll staring into space, cracks all over it’s face. 

“Who broke you?” You asked, gently touching the cracks and smoothing the hair out of its eyes. With a sad smile, you stood straight, trying to find a sign of a name. “You wouldn’t happen to be able to tell me your name, would you?” 

In the silence you frowned to yourself, “I’m talking to a doll.” You turned and walked back to your room, taking the ruined book pages and throwing them into the trash. You jumped when thunder rolled loudly outside, your nerves getting the best of you. 

“It’s fine. Everything is fine.” You told yourself, going to the kitchen and trying to find any source of food, which you found nothing. “Great. My work was ruined by the rain and now I’m going to starve.” You sighed, rubbing your face with your hands and stomping back up to your room. 

Turing the corner to enter the doorway of your room, you froze and gasped, seeing the doll sitting on your bed, a piece of paper laying next to him. You stayed where you were for a moment, slowly walking over to the object. “Are you...alive?” You asked, staring the doll in the eyes as you took the paper in your hands. 

In somewhat neat handwriting was a name, bold in black ink. “Brahms.” Lighting flashed and you felt your heart stop as the name left your lips. Your mind flashed to the article you’d written a few years back, about a woman who was a nanny to a ‘possessed doll’. You tried to remember the rest but you couldn’t focus on anything but the name and the connection the lady. 

Your skin crawled when a bump sounded from in the wall next to you, your heart raced faster than you thought possible. “That’s right.” You stood up, the paper in your hands shaking as you were. “Brahms...damnit what was the last name?” You bit your lip, pacing a bit. “It wasn’t the doll, someone was actually living...” You stopped mid sentence, remembering the woman’s face as she’d told you what happened when you had interviewed her. “He’s in the walls.” You said as you thought of her saying it. 

“Brahms-” 

“Heelshire.” The paper in your hand floated to the ground and you didn’t dare move a muscle, the deep voice came from near you but you couldn’t move. You just stared at the doll and hoped that if you blinked it would all be over with. 

“She left. I didn’t want her to go.” The voice was dangerously quiet as it moved around you. “Greta...she was mine!” A sudden crash made you jump in your place and you watched as a figure moved behind you, reflecting in the doll’s polished eyes. 

“Brahms.” You mumbled, causing the figure to stop. 

“What?” He snapped, he was right behind you. You could feel his towering presence and you cursed yourself for feeling his warmth comforting. 

“None of that should’ve ever happened to you.” Your voice was quiet and for a moment Brahms was at a loss for words. No one had ever remotely said anything like that to him, not even Greta, who faked the whole thing just to survive. 

“I don’t want your pity.” He growled, watching as you shook your head. 

“I’m not. I mean, I do feel sad that you’ve been so alone for all this time. But I don’t pity you entirely. What Greta did was something rude yet understandable.” You said, feeling your nerves start to calm down. Taking a deep breath, you slowly turned around to face a broad chest, clad in a stained tank top and the exposed skin covered with black chest hair. 

You took a step back and looked up at the man who wore half of a mask that you were confused by. Brahms stared down at you with the same confusion in his eyes. “Who are you?” He asked.

“My name is (Y/N). I’m a writer and I wrote an article about this case a while back. I didn’t know I’d ever actually come across this place. I’m sorry if I bothered you and I will leave-”

“No.” Brahms frowned, his eyes darkening.

“I have to otherwise-”

“NO!” He slammed his fists against the wall next to you and you nodded quickly. 

“Fine. That’s fine, I’ll stay.” You stared at him, wondering what he went through to be this hurt. 

“What did you mean when you said that stuff about Greta? That it was understandable?” 

“I just meant that no woman likes it when a man goes to extreme lengths to keep them in a place they don’t want to be. You were kind of rude as well- at least that’s what she told me.” You stared at each other for a few moments, your mind finally working normally again. “Phantom of the Opera.”

“What are you talking about?” He glared at you, not feeling comfortable underneath your stares. 

“Your mask. In Phantom of the Opera, his mask covered the part of him he never wanted the girl he loved to see. However,” You started, your writer’s mind thinking of a new way to start a book, a fresher way. “Brahms you don’t mind your scars do you?” Your hand slowly reached up to touch his face but was grabbed roughly by his. 

“You truly are afraid of being left alone. Not by your scars or not by the idea of never finding love. Loneliness.” Your eyes didn't break away from his until he let your wrist go. 

“You asked earlier who broke me? Gret- that woman, did. She was supposed to be mine forever, but she ran away!” Brahms hated himself for talking to you so casually, but for some reason, he felt that you understood him. 

“Brahms let’s make a deal. If I am to stay here with you, will you be my muse?” His tired eyes glanced over your frame.

“How do I know you won’t leave?” 

“I won’t. I have nothing back at home that can’t be worked it’s way over here. There’s nothing for me there.” You tensed, noticing his eyes flash in a way that made him grin. Brahms knew there was a reason you didn’t run. Your faced captivated him the moment his eyes landed on you. Maybe his parents didn’t mean Greta was his- maybe you were meant to be the one for him instead.

“Deal.” 

Learn how to be alone, without being lonely. Learn to admire beauty without finding fault. Learn to love yourself without the love of others. -h.r.d.

-Author’s note: If any of you are ever feeling upset or just want to talk, I am here for you guys. I’ve been through the darkest of my demons for now and I am finding ways to smile. Please message me if you need anything. 

[mittensmorgul]

This talk of the early seasons gives me another question: do you think the demons were trying to break John in hell? Like, were they trying to break the first seal with John a couple years before Dean? Or do you think breaking Dean was the original plan all along? (I'm aware the writers wouldn't have known about the seals while writing John being in hell seasons 1/2. I'm concerned about the Watsonian perspective here.) Thanks for your wisdom btw, I love your perspective on this stuff 😬

Hi there! First off, thanks! I do my best, and I’m glad you’re enjoying it :D

Second, wheee! Watsonian perspective is what I care most about, so I’ll stick to that. Well, mostly… the one thing I feel I do need to bring up is the timeline of s2, which I would suggest falls roughly over the span of time during which it airs– that’s to say that 2.01 (where John dies) and 2.22 (where John pops out of Hell and gives the assist in killing Azazel) are approximately eight to eleven months apart, depending on which theory of the timeline you subscribe to.

We know that 2.22 takes place immediately after the events of 2.21, which we have a concrete date for– Dean sells his soul on May 2, 2007. According to the Superwiki, John was killed by Azazel on July 19, 2006, but that’s a guess based on the date listed on the heart monitor of the girl who dies in the hospital in 2.01. And we all know how… timey-wimey those sorts of props can be, and I’m uncomfortable making definitive timeline estimates based on just those things. But for the purposes of this post, we’ll assume the range of potential timeline for 2.01 runs between late July and late September 2006 (since 2.01 aired on September 28, 2006, and often without other concrete dates, we assume canon runs approximately parallel to our real time).

So, John was in Hell for somewhere between 8 and 10 months, approximately, of canon standard time. But what do we really know about that time he spent in Hell?

We know DEAN’S experience in Hell, where he was being specifically worked over to the point of breaking. We know that his four months (actually more like four and a half– from May 2, 2008 through his resurrection date of September 18, 2008), but that it actually felt more like 40 years to him.

I need to stress this specifically, because the fandom assumption has always been “well, this is just what time is like uniformly throughout Hell, and not a targeted, concentrated experience catered specifically to accelerating Dean’s progression to surrender and pick up the blade himself, in fulfillment of the prophecy.”

I… always assumed that Dean’s experience was unique in Hell, and that– based on every other glimpse we’ve seen of Hell– Time runs… pretty much like normal Earth time there. Think of Crowley’s meeting with Cas in 6.20, in Hell’s waiting line. Or 11.09-11.10 (where we see more of Hell than ever before– both Crowley’s “dining room” there, several passageways, and the “stage cage” in Limbo), where time in Hell parallels exactly the characters who are still on Earth. While waiting for Dean and then Cas to arrive, for example, Sam only spends about half an hour with Lucifer in the cage alone, and Crowley and Rowena only spend the same amount of in-show time there as it takes for Dean and Cas to arrive, respectively. Finally, we have 8.19, wherein we know Sam had exactly 24 hours to break into Hell, retrieve Bobby, and escape to be picked up by the reaper who never arrived because Crowley was killed. Sam’s time “in Hell” exactly paralleled Dean’s time on Earth, as well as “purgatory time,” which we know runs approximately parallel to Earth Time after Dean spent “about a year” there.

So the logical conclusion is that “Hell Time” is malleable, but that Dean’s experience there was… unique. According to the prophecy they were ALL trying to bring about, Dean was put on the Break-The-Righteous-Man-Speed-Run plan. And I do believe this was a highly specific circumstance, and that Dean’s “Hell Time Dilation” was specific to his time in Hell, and not a universal blanket statement on how time works in Hell in general.

So… I postulate that John only spent those 8-10 months in “normal time” in Hell. And despite Alastair’s taunts in 4.16:

Alastair: John Winchester. Made a good name for himself. A hundred years. After each session, I’d make him the same offer I made you. I’d put down my blade if he picked one up.Dean: Just give me the demon’s name, Alastair.Alastair: But he said nein each and every time. Oh, damned if I couldn’t break him. Pulled out all the stops, but John, he was, well, made of something unique. The stuff of heroes. And then came Dean. Dean Winchester. I thought I was up against it again. But daddy’s little girl, he broke. He broke in thirty. Oh, just not the man your daddy wanted you to be, huh, Dean?

Because JOHN WAS NEVER THE ONE THAT NEEDED TO BREAK. But Alastair was intimately familiar with Dean’s experience, intimately familiar with how to HURT DEAN SPECIFICALLY, and this was an excellent try. But John… was NEVER the righteous man who needed to break, according to the prophecy. It ALWAYS had to be Dean. So… why would John have been tortured that way?

Not to mention, if John HAD been literally strapped to Alastair’s table, tortured constantly for his entire time in Hell, then how the heck did he manage to sneak out the Hellgate in 2.22? Like… think about it for a second.

The demons who escaped were essentially “in the right place at the right time,” because the one demon Azazel was trying to let out– which we won’t learn until 4.22– was Lilith.

We assume that the other demons who managed to sneak through before the gates were slammed shut happened to be Lilith-adjacent– such as Ruby (who knew Lilith’s whole plan from the start), and other demons who were already loyal to Lilith (such as Casey from 3.04, and Tammi from 3.09, and eventually all the demons Lilith surrounded herself with in 3.12 and 3.16).

And yet… out strolled John Winchester. Because Hell literally didn’t need him anymore. Dean had already made his deal. The clock was ticking on the guy they ACTUALLY needed. And heck if that doesn’t parallel exactly what Zachariah said to Adam in 5.18:

ZACHARIAH: Hey, don’t get me wrong. You’ve been a hell of a sport, really. Good stuff. But the thing is, you’re not so much the “chosen one” as you are…a clammy scrap of bait.ADAM: No…but what about the stuff that you said? I’m supposed to fight the devil.ZACHARIAH: Mmm, not so much. Hey, if it’s any consolation, you happen to be the illegitimate half-brother of the guy we do care about. That’s not bad, is it?ADAM: So you lied…about everything.ZACHARIAH: We didn’t lie. We just avoided certain truths to manipulate you. 

Because that’s the thing with this show– Heaven and Hell are pretty much the same. Sam goals, same methods, same objectives, just with a different set of aesthetics, a different interior decorator if you will.

If John had actually been tortured the way Alastair claimed in 4.16, would he have just been at liberty to conveniently stroll through the gate in 2.22? Would he have even been able to leave at all? Would he have looked so fresh as a daisy? I mean

Looks pretty good for a dude just strolled outta hell, you know? Not even the least bit demon-y, right? And we know it takes a heck of a lot less time than a century for a human soul to be demonized in Hell… So everything else– aside from Alastair’s statement to Dean in 4.16, which was a deliberately targeted barb specifically said to make Dean doubt himself while he was actively torturing the demon who’d tortured HIM for four decades and therefore HIGHLY suspect in context of the rest of canon– would suggest that John had been basically stashed in Hell’s Cold Storage for about 8 months while the demons were meticulously arranging circumstances on Earth to set up the events of 2.21-2.22, luring Dean into selling his soul for Sam, and Azazel getting the Devil’s Gate opened to let Lilith escape.

Because strangely enough, I believe the Crossroads Demon in 2.08 more than I trust Alastair in 4.16:

DEAN: Can you bring him back? My dad?DEMON: Of course I can. Just as he was. Your dad would live a long and natural life, like he was meant to. That’s a promise.DEAN: What about me?DEMON: I could give you ten years. Ten long good years with him. That’s a lifetime. The family can be together again. John, Dean, Sammy. The Winchester boys all reunited. (she advances towards him) Look. Your dad’s supposed to be alive. You’re supposed to be dead. So we’ll just set things straight, put things back in their natural order. And you get ten extra years on top. That’s a bonus.

John was never the one they actually wanted. John was never going to work as the Righteous Man, or as Michael’s True Vessel for the purposes of the specific prophecies of the Apocalypse. As Gabriel once said in 5.08:

GABRIEL: You sorry sons of bitches. Why do you think you two are the vessels? Think about it. Michael, the big brother, loyal to an absent father, and Lucifer, the little brother, rebellious of Daddy’s plan. You were born to this, boys. It’s your destiny! It was always you! As it is in heaven, so it must be on earth. One brother has to kill the other.DEAN: What the hell are you saying?GABRIEL: Why do you think I’ve always taken such an interest in you? Because from the moment Dad flipped on the lights around here, we knew it was all gonna end with you. Always.

So… no, I think John’s tenure in Hell was probably a boring (compared to Dean’s) few months spent adjacent to Lilith so she could keep an eye on him in case Dean did take some sort of demon deal to trade his life back for John’s before they were scheduled to.

And finally, a bit of a Doylist justification for all of that: I don’t think any of this was planned back when s2 was being written. I don’t think they’d considered the later retcon of s4 and Dean’s “forty years” in Hell while writing s2. I don’t think they’d thought any of this was part of some larger prophecy of the Apocalypse yet. None of that came about until 4.01, because there had NEVER been any intent to introduce Angels or Heaven into the cosmology of that universe until that point anyway. So… they made the most out of what they had already stated canonically, and left it to us to make the most sense out of it. And this ^^ is my best, least plot-holey, most canon-compliant theory based on the entirety of canon. :)

[spidermecc]

Unintentional love (Elu fake dating AU) Ch. 3 - Never again

Elu fake dating AU chapter 3 is up. As always, comments and feedback is very welcome. I hope you enjoy, let me know what you think. Find it on AO3 here.

”Oh my God Lucas, just pick a fucking shirt, they all look the same” Basile grunted.

The boys had spent the last hour in the same mens-wear shop, trying to find a new shirt for Lucas to wear to the party tomorrow.

”Honestly Lucas, you’re already dating the guy, why are you so stressed out?” Arthur asked sympathetically, while Yann picked up two shirts and headed for the dressing room.

”Fuck off, I just thought it would be nice to look good for once, it has nothing to do with him” Lucas said, not completely being able to hide his blush.

He had never been the type to care about what he was wearing, but even though he’d rather eat dirt than admit it, he was probably trying harder because he wanted to impress Eliott. He knew he didn’t stand a chance anyway, and Eliott was just helping him out to be friendly, probably because he didn’t have many friends at his new school, but he couldn’t help but want to look a bit different at the party, and maybe, just maybe impress Eliott a little bit.

“Fuck it, I’ll just wear the same shit I usually wear, let’s go get something to eat, I’m starving” he said, giving up on trying to find anything nice. Everything he’d tried on was either way too expensive or way too .. not him.

“FINALLY, I was beginning to think I’d have to eat the granola bar that’s been in my bag for four years” Basille exclaimed, almost running out of the shop.

“Yeah, let me just pay for this and we can get out” Yann said, fishing for his wallet in his bag.

After they exited the shop, they found a nice little café with cheap pizzas and beers to hang out at. It was nice to chill with the boys, they didn’t do this kind of stuff often, but when they did, Lucas always enjoyed it, even though they drove him mad half the time. This time was no exception. They’d all been grilling him about Eliott all week, and Lucas had successfully avoided the topic every time.

“So tell us something about this mystery guy” Yan said, while cutting his pizza with the shitty plastic knife and fork the café had given them.

“I already told you guys a thousand times, there’s not much to say. We’ve just hung out a few times and well, yeah we’re seeing each other I guess” Lucas answered, trying to avoid the topic yet again.

“Nu-uh” Basile said taking a sip of his beer, “you’re not getting off the hook so easy this time. Tell us something about him, I mean how did you manage to hook up with him? He looks like an actual model, if I was gay or bi or whatever, he’d be on my TO-DO list” he said laughing at his own joke.

Lucas couldn’t argue with that. Eliott did look like a model. His perfectly messy hair, his signature brown jacket, and those eyes.. those eyes that Lucas saw every time he closed his eyes, were out of this world. But what did Lucas actually know about Eliott? He knew that he was absolutely stunning, that he apparently was interested in the foyer, he had no social media (none that Lucas could find anyway) and that he drew weird looking rats in the library alone. It wasn’t much to go on, and if this whole pretending to date thing was going to work, he needed more. He pulled out his phone and found his newly added contact: Mon mec <3

Lucas: Tell me three things I should know about you

As soon as he hit the send button, he started worrying. That was a weird text to send out of the blue right? Shit Eliott didn’t even have his number, he should probably tell him who’s texting.

Lucas: This is Lucas btw. Lucas: Your pretend mec, haha

Read

Putain, what the hell was that mess? He’d sent three incoherent messages and not surprisingly Eliott left him on read. Fuck, was he even going to show up to the party tomorrow after Lucas sent him weird ass shit like that?

“Are you texting your boyfriend?” Arthur asked, mouth full of peperoni pizza, oil dripping down his chin.

“Nah, it’s Mika, he forgot his keys, so I have to head back, see you guys tomorrow” he said, desperate to get out of there, go home and bang his head against the wall until brain cells, that he obviously didn’t have, magically started to appear.

“Okay, see you tomorrow man, can’t wait to meet Eliott” Yann said, with such an honest smile that it broke Lucas’ heart. He really hated lying to his friends, especially Yann.

“Yeah, he can’t wait to meet you guys either” he answered, putting on his scarf, feeling like an absolutely horrible friend.

____

When he finally got home he threw himself on the bed and yanked his phone out of his pocket. Still no answer from Eliott. Of course not, why would he answer such silly messages from a complete stranger? While Lucas was contemplating how to tell the boys that Eliott would not attend the party tomorrow, without letting them know that he’d been lying he heard a pling.

Eliott: Phew, you just go straight to the personal questions, huh Lucas?

Shit, he’d offended Eliott. Of course he had. He could have at least started off with a ‘hey’ or a ‘thanks for agreeing to be my pretend boyfriend and going to a party with a bunch of people you don’t know’.

Lucas: I’m so sorry, I know that was totally out of the blue and weird

Eliott: Hahah, I’m kidding Lucas.

Lucas felt a weight lift off his chest. So Eliott wasn’t upset with him?

Eliott: I’ve actually just spent the last hour thinking of a good answer and I think I have it, are you ready?

Lucas: I’m ready, hit me

His heart starting racing out of nowhere. The prospect of getting to know Eliott, even if it was just three facts, had him sitting on the edge of his bed, tapping his foot on the floor in pure anticipation.

Eliott: 1. My spirit animal is a raccoon. 2. My favorite music is dubstep. 3. You’ll have to earn the third.

Lucas read and reread the message for what might have been ten times. Dubstep? Really? How was this mystery guy, who looked and talked like an actual angel, into freaking dubstep? Also, a spirit animal? Lucas had never even considered what his might be, but God, Eliott was an actual dork.

Lucas: How do I earn the third?

Eliott: I’m sure you’ll figure something out.

Shit, was Eliott flirting with him, or was Lucas just imagining things? He decided not to dwell on it and continued tapping on his phone, forming a response quickly, so Eliott didn’t think he’d left him on read.

Lucas: So those rats with masks on them that you were drawing in the library were actually raccoons?

Eliott: RATS?! Wow Lucas, you’re already breaking my heart and we’ve only been dating for a week.

His heart started racing. He felt kind of sorry for teasing Eliott about his drawings, but he couldn’t help himself. He wondered if Eliott also had a huge grin plastered on his face right now, because Lucas sure as shit did.

Lucas: I’m a real heartbreaker, sorry

Eliott: Yeah, I noticed at the bus stop, no mercy huh? Eliott: So it’s your turn now, no?

The grin that had been dominating his face during the entire conversation fell as soon as he saw the message. Eliott had probably, maybe, meant it as a joke, but the prospect of Eliott thinking he was cold hearted, made him want to cry.

Lucas: Actually, I’ve got to go, I have a ton of homework. See you tomorrow at the party.

Eliott: Okay, see you tomorrow.

He threw his phone on the other side of the bed and buried his face in his pillows. He definitely wasn’t ready for tomorrow.

______

Lucas was standing in front of the bathroom mirror trying to tame his hair. He’d been in need of a haircut for a while now, but he barely had money to pay the rent, so spending money on a haircut was the furthest from his mind, when Mika barged in. “Looking good kitten, meeting up with your new man?” he said, toying with Lucas’ hair. “Yeah, we’re going to a party tonight” he answered, swatting away Mikas hands. “Bring him over to the apartment some time, I have to approve before you take the next step you know” he said, still playing with Lucas’ hair, not getting the hint. “Need to see what his intentions are with our little kitten” he continued, laughing. “Gosh, can you please fuck off Mika, the last thing I need is you scaring him away with your sex talk” Lucas answered, starting to get slightly annoyed. “Gee always so touchy, you know you have to loosen up a bit, or you’ll never get any dick” he exclaimed, finally pulling his hands away in defeat. “Have fun, remember to use a condom” he finished with a wink, leaving Lucas’ hair in a worse state than it was to begin with.

As soon as Lucas left the apartment he regretted not bringing his scarf. The cool night air was already starting to sting, and he could feel his ears starting to cramp from the cold. He’d agreed to meet Eliott halfway, so they could arrive together, making the whole thing seem more believable.

“Salut” he heard a voice from behind. There he was, Eliott Demaury in all his glory. He looked stunning as always, wearing a white t-shirt, a skin tight leather jacket and skinny denim jeans, showing off his perfect figure. Lucas was pretty sure his mouth was starting to water, but he tried not to dwell too much on it. “Salut” he answered, trying to sound nonchalant, and probably failing miserably. “Let’s go” Eliott said as he started walking. Lucas was struggling to keep up, seeing as Eliott’s legs were much longer than his, almost jogging next to the taller boy.

As they walked, it almost felt like they’d known each other for ages. Lucas kept joking about the raccoon drawings, while Eliott dramatically clutched his chest, as if Lucas was breaking his heart all over again. They talked about music, which subjects they liked and disliked, which movies they liked (Eliott’s favorite was Titanic, how cliché), until they finally circled back to the drawings.   “You know for someone who looks so innocent, you sure can be a sarcastic little shit” Eliott laughed, after Lucas, once again, had made fun of the drawings. “I’m sorry. And I don’t look innocent” he said, another laugh escaping him. “Yeah you do. You’re short but spikey” Eliott said continuing “you know what you remind me of?” “What?” Lucas said, looking up at the taller boy, clinging on to every word he said. “A hedgehog” he said, bursting into giggles. “A what?! I do NOT look like a hedgehog” Lucas exclaimed, trying to look upset, but he was pretty sure the huge ass grin on his face gave him away. “Whatever you say, but I’m pretty sure that a hedgehog is your spirit animal” Eliott said, lightly puffing Lucas shoulder. Lucas couldn’t help but smile at how cute Eliott looked when he was smiling and joking and he wished that they could just keep walking for hours, talking and laughing.

As they reached the apartment, Eliott swung his arm around Lucas, who involuntarily flinched. “Calm down, it’s just for show right?” Eliott said, seemingly amused by the expression on Lucas’ face. “Yeah, sorry” he answered, staring down at the ground. As soon as they entered the smoke filled apartment, they were greeted with his loud friends. “LUCAAAAAAS” Basille screamed, trying to drown out the music. Yann shook Eliott’s hand, introducing himself as Lucas’ best friend, and Lucas felt a pang of guilt wash over him again. He really hated lying to his friends.

After the boys had introduced themselves, they all went out onto the balcony, where Arthur was trying to roll a joint, but failing miserably, having drunken one beer too many. “Here, let me” Eliott said, reaching out and taking the paper and weed from Arthurs trembling hands. “Damn, good looking and good with his hands, what a catch Lucas” Basile exclaimed, and Lucas had a sudden urge to throw him over the balcony. “I’m the one who got lucky” Eliott said with a wink, not taking his eyes off Lucas. He couldn’t help think of, how in another universe, they were actually dating, and he was happy and contempt with his friends and his gorgeous boyfriend getting along. But right here, right now, it all felt a little bit too much, and Eliott’s gaze made him feel sad about all the things he wished he could have but didn’t.

“It’s getting pretty cold, I think I’m going to head inside” Lucas said, grabbing his beer from the balcony floor. “I’ll go with you, here you go” Eliott said handing over the joint to Arthur, “nice to meet you guys, we’ll catch up later” he continued as he swung his arm around Lucas, and opened the balcony door for him. They had only been doing this for an hour or so, but it was already proving very difficult for Lucas to handle it. Every move Eliott made, seemed effortless and natural, he almost let himself believe for a second that they weren’t pretending.

They headed inside, and got comfortable on a couch in the corner. “Your friends are cool” Eliott said, taking a sip of his beer. “Yeah they’re great, they can be a pain in the ass, but they’re really the best friends a guy could wish for” Lucas answered honestly. “I’m jealous of you, you know” Eliott said, staring intensely at Lucas. “Huh?” “You have these great friends, and I can tell how much they care about you just by the way they were trying to impress me, it’s adorable” Eliott said, his smile dropping faintly. “I’m sure your friends are great as well” he answered, trying to cheer Eliott up, desperate to see him smile again. “Yeah, something like that” he said, putting the beer bottle to his mouth, almost finishing it in one sip. “I’m gonna get another one, can I get you anything mon mec?” he asked a playful smile lingering on his lips. “No I’m good, thanks” Lucas said, a faint blush appearing.

Eliott had been gone for almost twenty minutes and Lucas was starting to get worried. As he was getting up to look for him, a guy came over and sat down next to him. Lucas looked at him, and got the feeling he’d seen the guy before, but he couldn’t quite make him out. He had long blond hair, tied up in a tight bun, wearing a navy blue shirt and a silver necklace around his neck. “Salut, I’m Curtis” he said, handing Lucas a new beer. “Salut, Lucas” he answered, still scanning the room for Eliott. “Why do I get the feeling that I’ve seen you before?” he asked, confirming Lucas’ suspicion that he looked familiar. “I’m not sure, but I think I’ve seen you before as well” he answered, not fully committing to the conversation, still concerned about Eliott’s whereabouts. “I’m friends with Idriss, maybe you know Imane?” the guy said, scanning Lucas’ face, trying to catch his eye. “Are you looking for someone?” he finally asked. “Yeah sorry, I’m looking for my uh.. my-my boyfriend, Eliott” Lucas said, feeling awkward saying the lie out loud to a stranger. “Eliott is your boyfriend?” the guy asked, looking surprised. “Yeah, uhm why- do you know him?” Lucas answered, nervous that he’d overstepped, by calling Eliott his boyfriend to someone who might actually know him. “I don’t know him personally, but Idriss mentioned him a few times” he said, continuing “but uhm I saw Eliott on my way over here. He went into a room with Lucille, his ex-girlfriend” he said, looking slightly uncomfortable. “His what?” Lucas asked, his heart stopping for a few seconds. Eliott had an ex-girlfriend? Here at the party? Why hadn’t he told him? “Yeah, I recognized her from some photos Idriss showed me of them a while back” Curtis continued. Lucas could feel the heat rising to his face. He felt like he’d been completely fucked over. If Eliott wanted to hang out with his ex, which probably wasn’t an ex anymore if they’d spent such a long time alone in a room, he could have just told him.

“Hey, come on, I’m sure they’re just talking” Curtis said, trying to cheer Lucas up, who was now busy fiddling with the sticker on his beer, trying to hold the tears at bay. Why was he so upset? Eliott had upheld his part of the deal, he’d met his friends as Lucas had asked, so he probably thought it was done and over with. “I have an idea, let’s get some shots huh?” the blonde said, getting up and pulling Lucas up with him, dragging him into the kitchen.

Ten minutes and five shots later, Lucas was absolutely fucked. His vision was blury and he could feel himself babbling, not sure what words were coming out of his mouth, but apparently Curtis, who hadn’t stopped laughing for two whole minutes, found it very entertaining. “Can I tell you a secret” Lucas said leaning into Curtis, almost whispering in his ear. “Yeah, shoot” “Eliott and I aren’t actually dating” he said bursting out on laughter. It all seemed so funny and stupid right now. They hadn’t even been able to keep up the act for one night before Eliott was off with his ex and Lucas was spilling the secret to strange guys. “Come again?” Curtis said, seemingly confused. “Yeah, we’re just pretending, it’s aaaaaall fun and games” Lucas continued, still laughing like a maniac. “But why?” “Was trying” he was literally struggling for air, it all seemed so silly right now, he couldn’t stop laughing, “to get rid of a girl” he finally managed, taking another shot, almost spitting it out in the process, not being able to contain his laughter. “Wow, that’s.. that’s a relief” Curtis finally said. “Huh?” Lucas had finally stopped laughing and looked at Curtis, for the first time tonight he noticed how he was actually quite handsome. Not Lucas’ type at all, blondes just weren’t his thing, but he was definitely good-looking. “That means that I get to ask you out, what do you say” Curtis said, flashing a smile at Lucas. Lucas wasn’t sure what was happening, but he found himself giggling “suuuuure thing” he managed, between giggles. He was definitely too drunk, because this guy couldn’t actually just have asked him out right? And what had he answered? He suddenly couldn’t remember anything. But before he had time to process what just happened, and what he’d said, he felt his stomach turning. Without a word, he ran to the bathroom, knocking over some girl in the process, desperate to reach the toilet before he spilled his insides all over the floor.

After five minutes, Lucas had thrown up everything he’d drank all night and probably all of his meals the past five days. He managed to get up and wash his mouth and face, and got out of the bathroom, desperately looking for his jacket. He needed air, he needed to get out of here, when a hand touched his shoulders. “Eliott?” he said turning around, not able to hide his disappointment when he saw the blonde guy before him. “Hey are you okay? You just ran away, and locked yourself inside the bathroom, I was getting worried” “Yeah I’m f-fine” he managed “have you seen Eliott?” “He left with Lucille, I think” Curtis said, not meeting Lucas’ eyes. “Oh.. of-c-of course.. I should go as well” “Want me to walk you home?” Curtis asked, hand still on Lucas’ shoulder. “No, no, I’m good, I’ll see you later yeah?” he said, grabbing his coat from the couch and practically sprinting out of the apartment.

He wasn’t sure how or when he got home, but he finally managed to get to the apartment and throw himself on the bed, not bothering to take off his clothes. ‘Never drinking again’, he thought to himself, closing his eyes, trying to will the room not to spin, never again.

[freddie-roger-brian-john]

Surprises - part one (Roger x reader x Ben)

A/N - no one asked for this and I’ve still got some requests that I need to finish but, me being the procrastinating disaster that I am, decided to write about everyone’s favourite three way relationship. Hope you enjoy! This is part one of a short series btw. Things will get better!

Warnings - Angstttttttttt, swearing, pregnancy, ughhhh, Roger being an idiot

Word count - 2369

——————

It was pretty safe to say, you were fucking terrified. One hand was gripping the sink, your knuckles as white as the porcelain you were holding onto for dear life. The other held a positive pregnancy test.

You had suspected it for the last few days. You had thrown up every morning this week and tried to convince yourself that you just had a bug. But something in the back of your mind just knew that this wasn't some illness that would pass in a few days. No, this was something that would last your entire life.

Accepting that you were pregnant was the second most difficult thing about this whole situation. The most difficult would be telling Ben and Roger. Scenarios flew around your mind of them leaving you. You could picture them running off into the sunset together, leaving you with alone with the big belly that was in your near future.

You knew that you would have to tell them together. It wouldn't be fair to one of them if the other found out before he did. So you called them both. As Ben was higher up in your contacts, you phoned him first.

And he didn't answer.

Your breathing started to quicken. You didn't know why this was making you so nervous. He was probably just in the middle of filming - Yes, that had to be it.

Trying your best to calm down, you phoned Roger. Thank god he answered. Otherwise you would've probably just cried.

"Hello?" Came his voice. Just the familiar noise was enough to help you feel a little less panicked.

"Hi," you said, your voice quieter than you had intended.

"You alright, love?" He asked, noticing the way the greeting had been a little shaky. You nodded despite him not being able to see you.

"Yeah, fine," you said quickly. "How long are you going to be at the studio?"

"I'm actually walking to my car now," he told you. "We were going to try and finish the song today but we all need a break. I think we're all getting a little short with each other."

"So you're not in a great mood then?" You asked him, panic settling in you again. You heard him sigh.

"Not really," He said and you could just imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose, "Brian keeps trying to change the tempo and making up sections to throw us off a little. Every second line he uses a different riff-"

"Just seeing if you can keep up with a few surprises," you heard Brian's distant and muffled voice say, teasingly. You could tell he was enjoying getting a rise out of his friend.

"No one likes your surprises, Brian," Roger said, obviously not aiming the comment at you. He addressed you again. "Sorry, he's just being bloody annoying. Let's make a deal, from now on, no more fucking surprises." Despite the slightly humorous way in which he said that last bit, a pit had opened up in your stomach.

"Ok, Rog," you said, your voice quiet and quick once more. "I'll see you at home." Before he had time to respond, you hung up the phone, throwing it down on the counter next to the sink. Your hands were shaking as you picked up the test again, double checking that you had read it right.

You had, of course.

At that moment, you heard keys in a lock before the front door swung open. Your eyes widened and you quickly stashed the test in your pocket, making sure to take a few deep breaths to calm yourself down.

You nodded at yourself in the mirror, giving you that wee bit of confidence you needed, and exited the small bathroom. You spotted Ben standing by the front door as he hung his jacket up.

"Hi, babe," he said when he saw you. He made his way over to you, talking with every stride. "Sorry I didn't answer the phone, I was driving and-" but you silenced him with a hug. Hugs weren't uncommon between the two of you but the thing that surprised him was the urgency of which you wrapped your arms around him. "Are you alright?" He asked, concern plain in his voice. He held you as you buried your face into his shoulder.

The second you had seen him, tears had started to form in your eyes. This was the quickest way you had been able to think of to hide your face from him.

Even so, you answered his question truthfully. "No," you said, your voice muffled by the fabric of his jumper. He wanted to pull back from you, to see your face, but you clung onto him the same way someone who can't swim clings onto a lifebuoy.

"What is it?" He asked. You just shook your head.

"I-" you said, your voice catching in your throat, "I can't tell you until Roger gets home."

"Babe, that won't be for another ten minutes," he said, still wanting only to see your face so that he could judge how serious this was. "If something's wrong, you need to tell me." You finally allowed him to pull back. His hands found either side of your face and he used his thumb to wipe away a tear. "I can't help you unless you tell me what's wrong." Again, you shook your head.

"Sorry," you said, your cheek leaning into his palm. "It has to wait until he gets here." Ben look at you for a long moment. He seemed to decide that, no matter how hard he pushed, you were adamant on waiting for Roger to get home. He nodded, pulling you close to him, and lead you to the couch.

With your back against his chest and his chin resting above your head, you both lay quietly. His fingers intertwined with your own and he examined the way your hands looked together. You had managed to stop crying and you were silently scorning yourself for being so emotional about this.

The truth was, you were just terrified of losing your boys. You couldn't help but imagine not having Ben to lie with, the way you were lying with him now. Oh how you would miss the way you could feel his heartbeat and the way his chest rose and fell with every breath.

Sensing that, despite the lack of tears, you were still upset, Ben's lips began whispering sweet words of comfort. He told you how much he loved you, how much Roger loved you. His breath was hot against your ear and the side of your face tickled as Ben's words blew stray hairs out of the way.

He felt you tense as the two of you heard Roger open and close the front door. "Anyone home?" His voice rang out.

"I'm here, love," Ben called back. Moments later, Roger appeared in the doorway of the living room. He looked down at you and Ben in each other's arms, and smiled.

"We need to get a bigger couch," he commented as he searched for a way to join the two of you. However, his smile faltered a little when he saw the serious looks on both your faces. "What's wrong?" He asked. The hand that wasn't clasped in Ben's reaches out towards Roger and you pulled him towards the couch. He sat down, cuddling into you and sandwiching you between your two boyfriends.

"I- um..." you began. You hated the way your voice cracked. "Rog, I know you said no surprises but- um..." Without looking at either of them, you could tell they had shot a worried glance at each other. You could feel your cheeks growing red.

"Love, whatever it is, it'll be alright," Roger told you, sending how scared you were. Still, you couldn't find the words to tell them. The phrase "I'm pregnant," was stuck at the back of your throat.

So instead, you quickly dug in your pocket and pulled out the positive pregnancy test. Both their eyes landed on it and their faces fell.

You stayed absolutely silent, trying to work out from their blank faces whether they were pleased or not. You honestly felt like crying again until Ben's face broke out into a smile. "Oh my god," he said, breathlessly and with a slight laugh. His hand left yours and immediately went to rest on your belly, despite it not showing any signs of a pregnancy. "There's gonna be a person in here."

You could help but laugh. Mostly because of his comment but also because of the relief you were feeling. With one hand still on your belly, the other cupped your face and he kissed you. You could feel his grin against your lips.

After both pulling away, you turned your head to roger, expecting him to want to kiss you as well. Instead, your heart dropped as you saw that he was still wearing that fallen, blank expression.

"Babe?" Ben said. Roger looked up, as if just waking up from a day dream. "You alright?" Roger nodded and his mouth moved to talk, but no words came out. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"Uh, yeah I-" he stood up rather suddenly, causing your leg to fall off the couch "- I just - um - I need a minute." And without another word, he left. A moment later, you heard the bedroom door slam shut and a sinking feeling rooted itself within you.

Ben, who face had been shocked and slightly angry at Roger's sudden disappearance, was quickly replaced by a comforting, tight lipped smile when he saw the look of pure panic on your face.

It was like your worst fear had come true. You could not lose Roger.

"Hey, it's gonna be ok," he said softly, pressing a kiss to your temple as his grip around you tightened a little. He was shaking slightly and you could tell that he was just as worried about losing Roger as you were. "He'll come round, he just needs to process everything."

Loosening his hold on you, Ben quickly excused himself, explaining to you that he was just going to go check on Roger. However, the thin walls of your home betrayed him.

"What the hell are you doing?" You heard Ben demand as he entered the bedroom.

"I can't do this, Ben," Roger responded. "I'm not meant to be a- a parent. I can't do it."

"Rog, listen to yourself," Ben said seriously.

"No, you don't get it," he said. "You're always here, you're always gonna be here. I'm away touring for half the bloody year."

"So you're just gonna leave?" Ben said, his voice growing louder. "Don't you see how unfair that is? Y/N doesn't have that option, she's stuck with it-"

"She could abort-"

"You can expect her to do that!" Ben shouted, making you flinch. "She doesn’t even let me kill spiders, you can’t seriously believe she would go through with something like that! In her mind, she's got to do this! She doesn't have the privilege of backing out."

"She's got you, doesn't she?" Roger demanded, his voice becoming angry. "It's not like she's alone in this! It'll still have a dad!"

"Roger-"

"Because let's face it! Only one of us is the father! Only one of us is actually going to be this things dad!"

"As if we'd ever actually find that out!" Ben shouted back. "I don't care which one of us it is! Y/N won't care either! We're both it's dad whether you like it or not!" There was a moment before the harshness in Ben's voice was replaced by panic. "Rog? Roger, seriously..." You heard the bedroom door open and heavy footsteps making their way to the front door. You leapt to your feet and ran out of the living room.

"Roger!"

His hand was on the door handle, he had a bag slung over his shoulder. His head jerked to looked over his shoulder at you but he stopped himself, his eyes lowering to the floor.

"I'm sorry," was all that he said before leaving. You called out to him again but he just slammed the door in response, leaving you completely speechless. You barely acknowledged Ben's arm around you.

"He's..." you began, sinking deeper into Ben's arms. "Oh my god, he's gone." You were too shocked to cry anymore.

Ben, on the other hand, was in tears. It took all of your combined strength to walk the few steps to your bedroom as you silently tried to comfort each other. The two of you parted for a moment as you both got under the covers but you quickly felt him pull you close to him again.

"Ben," you said, your hand on his chest. Though you weren't crying, your voice was still thick with what you were feeling. "I think I need a wee bit of space tonight." He looked at you, quickly wiped his eyes, and nodded.

"Alright," he said, sliding his arm out from beneath you. He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, his eyes occasionally darting sideways to glance at you.

Instead of returning his looks, you rolled onto your side so that your back faced him. You inched closer to the edge of the bed so that your body occupied the space on which Roger would normally sleep. You could smell him on the mattress. When you closed your eyes you could imagine that he was lying there, just out of reach.

When you awoke slowly the next morning, your body was hugging Roger's pillow. The bed felt horribly cold as last night's events crept back into your mind. You told yourself not to cry, not one more tear was to be shed over Roger Taylor.

Turning around to find comfort in Ben, your breath hitched in your throat. He wasn't there. The duvet had been pulled back and you were suddenly surrounded by unoccupied mattress.

For what felt like the hundredth time in the last 24hrs, panic consumed you.

You were alone, so very alone.

Roger had left, Ben was gone, and your life would never be the same again.

[tiny-ruby-seeds]

Such Selfish Prayers (Part 1)

Michael Langdon x Reader

Part 1/ Part 2 / Part 3

Warnings- Pale Demon!Michael Langdon (would like to think this is post “Fire & Reign” you know… When Daddy!Michael was coming into his own during that Giant Time Gap we have in his story *is not salty at all*), Demonic Stuff with the Antichrist (duh), Slight Blasphemy, Established BDSM relationship, & Roleplay (which may have some Dubcon tones as we progress just a heads up). 

Author’s note- So, it came to my attention that there are so very very few Pale Demon!Michael fics out there. As someone who loves monsters as much as she loves her pretty & badass boys I absolutely cannot allow that now in this fandom now, can I? Holler if you would like to be tagged for the other parts BTW (I’m gearing for 3 at least and this is the shortest of them all).

Oh! Little heads up… Think of this as “appetizer” chapter.  It’s all going downhill from here. 

Word Count- 4473

“This is as good a place  to fall as any...” -Florence and the Machine Bedroom Hymns

It was only after I sunk into the hot bath did I feel like I could actually breathe for the first time today. My worries and cares of the day slowly starting to melt away and drift off like the steam I could see from the water’s glass-like surface. I couldn’t stop the moan even if I tried. Today had been… Well rough probably summed it up although it still felt like an understatement.

Between having to stay an hour and a half longer after my shift ended, dealing with coworkers as well as customers on a daily basis… I was just more than thankful it was a Friday night. The weekend was mine to do what I wanted when I wanted. Things were certainly looking up that's for certain. But a small selfish part of me couldn’t help but think, Could be better...

He could be home.

I bit my bottom lip, feeling a bit horrible for thinking that, but another part of me couldn’t help but feel justified as well. I may have had a long day but my boyfriend was having a long month, and I could see it was getting to him. I could feel my heart twist as I thought of the past few nights.

Of him stumbling in later and later each night, exhausted and starving, having not eaten the whole day (he was far too driven for his own good). His curly blonde hair was always a mess from running his hands through, barely able to keep those beautiful blue eyes open, looking every inch that kicked puppy he had been when we met. I knew this was different and what happened was like a lifetime ago, but it was still like a punch to the chest every time I saw him like this. I just hated seeing him so beaten.

I sunk a little bit more into the tub, feeling my heart ache just from the thought of it and half wishing I had brought a glass of wine in the bathroom with me (I had been determined to not touch it until he came home). I took a deep breath before I sunk underwater. I didn’t want to make myself sad but I couldn’t help but think he needed a break more than I did. He always seemed to wear the world on his shoulders these days ever since that meeting…

Actually, that was a terrible bad analogy with his job (his purpose, I reminded myself) but with the pressure he was under, the pressure that they were putting on him he may as well. But I knew this was important to him and, although I wasn’t very wild on it when he first said what it was, I came to understand. Nor could I tell him “No” with how he seemed to come to life when he spoke about how things would change for us when (not if as he would say) he succeeded. It almost made those late nights, seeing him like that, worth it. 

Almost.

What did make it worth it was the words he would repeat to me when it was just us. Between the sweet nothings, and those apologies he didn’t need to say he would tell me that I was one of the only ones allowed to see him like this.

And the only one to see him in other ways, My thoughts chimed in, inner voice sounding so much like him I almost breathed in water.

I broke the surface of the bath taking a deep breath of air as that damn text of his came back to haunt me as it had been doing all day since he sent it during my morning break. I’ll see you tonight… It had read. And then he had to text me the two most tantalizing words I had heard in a while.

Play along.

I could feel myself start to ache like I had been, my thoughts running over a slew of different things as to what he was planning all of which I knew would probably be nowhere near close what he would do. Not wanting to get myself too excited too soon, I tilted my head back to lay back against the tub, I tried to think of something else. It hadn't been long since we had been together. But it had been weeks since we had been together in the way we both craved. And with the things his mind could come up with…

Okay, not helping in the “calming down” front, I thought, feeling my body start to burn. Fuck, was I so ready for it.

Or so I thought then.

I tried to distract myself as I did what I normally did in the bath alone (seriously? Calm down dirty mind.). I shaved, washed myself off, shampooed my hair, pretty much everything I could to calm myself down in the hot water because who knew how long until I would get the moment to again these next few days. It was only after going underwater to wash off the conditioner, and noticing the water was much colder than it was when I got in did I finally get out. My mind on everything and nothing. My trick of distracting myself working then as I tried to dry myself off with the towel.

It was then I felt something that caught my attention.

A slight cold breeze running up my spine that made me gasp. Goosebumps forming on still damp skin, making me shiver. I bit down the urge to chatter my teeth.

Huh?

I swung around to see that the door was partially open, not a lot but enough to let in a blast of air. I could see the darkness of the hallway beyond beckoning me forward. That’s weird, I was sure I had closed that coming in. I knew I did. So how…?

Wait, had he come home early after all? But if he did... Why hadn’t he joined me? I knew he would if he saw what I was doing. I wrapped the towel around me, tying a slight knot I knew would handle me walking around with it and strode over to the door. I pushed it open seeing nothing before me. I glanced down the hall. Nothing there either.

The sun had long set now and the hallway was dark. Pitch black even and that set off some warning bells. The plugin light we had in the socket was off and I vividly remember seeing it on earlier seeing as I clicked it on.

“Babe, you home?” I called out, not long after I winced realizing then the situation I was in.

Okay… Seriously? Now you’re becoming the worst kind of horror movie cliche, I kicked myself as I quietly stepped into the hallway and closed the door to the bathroom behind me. I listened to the beats of silence as I did, a part of me thought about getting the knife we had in our room in case... Something came up. A few more moments of silence later, I decided against it.

My mind must have been playing tricks on me. Maybe I hadn’t closed the door all the way and the AC had kicked on? Yeah, that sounds about right. I would have heard someone open it. And the bulbs for the old plugin light must have died again, it happened with those old things. I had meant to get something a bit more modern anyway. What was I doing out here, I mean other than being an idiot and scaring myself? Feeling pretty stupid, I reached for the bathroom doorknob once more when…

I heard a shuffle from down the hall.

I froze. This time I knew that it wasn’t my mind playing tricks on me. I had heard it.

Had he come home after all? If so... Why hadn’t he said anything? What was going on?

In retrospect, I’m not sure why I left the oversized shirt and my underwear there in the bathroom. I mean I should have known better. Guess I wasn’t thinking as I made the split-second decision. I started down the hall wrapped in nothing but my towel, trying to be as quiet as I could as though I were trying to sneak up on someone.

The dark stained hardwood was cool on my feet as but I padded quietly down the empty dark hall. But as I continued to the living room I could I couldn’t help but notice there was a strange change of temperature. As I got closer and closer to the living room... It was like there was a hot spot there, and it wasn't just the floor either as the air itself felt a bit warmer, heavier, like the summer air before the first clap of thunder that signaled a storm. I tried not to think anything of it, hoping it was just weird venting in an old apartment building but it wasn’t making me feel any better.

I had the gut feeling I was on the edge of something like I was on the edge of a cliff about to jump into a lake. Each step made my heart thud louder and louder in my ears. I started to kick myself as I really should be wearing clothes doing this. I should be armed. If I was watching this in a horror flick I would be screaming at myself right now. Yet, something was drawing me down the hall. Couldn’t turn back now.

Soon I found myself just before the corner to the living room. Swallowing hard, staying close to the wall I peeked around the corner.

I couldn’t see anything but an empty living room before me.

Feeling a little foolish I stepped onto the carpet and looked around in dim light. Small slots of moonlight peeking from the blinds along the wall gave the room a strange look of light and shadow but I didn’t see anything different. Nothing out of place. Maybe it had been something at the door? Something with the neighbors? Not normal but not unheard of.

I decided to go over and take a peek through the small peephole in the door. Worse came to worse I’d run back and pull something on. If it was nothing, no horror movies for me for a week at least. I had made it halfway across the room right before the small table that I sat my purse on when I came back when I stopped. My throat tightening, my heart starting to race once more. I didn’t dare move.

Someone was watching me.

I could feel it.

Instantly I swung around, and I gasped, a hand going to my mouth to stifle the start of a scream.

There in the corner, right across from where I stood I could see a shape in the armchair. A shape that certainly had not been there just a few moments ago. I could see it lounging in the darkness like it was some sort of throne.

I stepped back instinctively. Almost running into the table that had my purse.

“Well, what do we have here?” A man’s voice spoke, sounding as rich and warm as velvet yet there was a strange echo to it.

That voice, it sounded… Familiar.

It was that familiarity that glued me to the spot. Kept me from running. It couldn’t be, I thought.

He stood up fluidly, gracefully. He moved across the room like a predator that you could only see because it wanted you to see it and it was already too late then. He was a bit taller than me. I think I could make out curly hair in the darkness that parted at his forehead, almost to his shoulders but I couldn’t really tell as there wasn’t much light. But that wasn’t all, I don’t know what he was wearing but I could tell it was black. He all but blended into the darkness with it and I could barely make out his shape save for bits and pieces and… Was he wearing a cape…?

Holy shit. I thought as I realized I was right, even hidden in the dark I recognized him. What was he-? I was about to speak his name when two little words teased in my head….

Play along.

Two little words that weren’t just a little bit of teasing… 

They were a challenge.

This was a scene.

Oh sweetie…I fought back a smirk, catching on to the game. And it’s not even my birthday yet.

I slowly reached back for the purse I had on the table, slipping into the role he had cast me as. My purse wasn’t much as a weapon but if I timed it right it would be of a distraction.

“I’m not sure what I was expecting, coming to this little... Eden of yours,” He lilted, his voice made me shiver, the sound of his boots on the hardwood floor echoing in my ears in between the rapid beats of my heart.

“...But I am not disappointed in the least but what I have found.”

I was frozen, like a rabbit before the wolf. I couldn’t move, it was like something was holding me there… Something unnatural and he knew it as he drew closer.

And closer.

Closer.

I’m not sure how he could see in the darkness but I knew he could. I could feel his eyes on my bare skin, barely dry from the bath, the sensation made my cheeks burn in a way I was glad it was too dark for him to see.

All too soon he was right before me, still in cloaked in darkness with the dim ray of moonlight before me. I could smell amber, of leather, and something spicy that I couldn’t name. I could feel the warmth from him, even at this distance, even from his clothes and I was almost overcome with the need to sink into it. He wasn’t even touching me and yet something in me started to ache, begging to be touched all over by him. I almost thought about undoing the knot on the towel, letting it fall to the floor.

Almost.

Suddenly a ringed hand came from the darkness. I had to keep from gasping when I saw it. His hand was unnaturally pale in the moonlight. Veins of black and gray crossed his skin like the veins in marble. But that wasn’t all... It was like he was absorbing the light of the moon and leaving nothing but void its wake. It was unreal…

It was inhuman.

I should try to stop him when he reached for me, but I could barely move as his hand cupped my cheek, tracing under my jaw. His skin felt like a strange contradiction, rough and tough, yet smooth and soft. Maybe like a sort of leather? No… Not like that. It was hard to put into words but it felt… Good.

No, better than good.

Sinful.

His thumb started teasing my lower lip in a matter I could feel my lower belly ache. I could almost feel a ghost of that touch like an echo on my inner thigh, so close to my core … As it slowly started to heat up.

No… I told myself. Don’t you start to give in now! Besides…

We have some catching up to do now, don’t we?

“Tell me, little girl...” he said, oh he was so close now yet still in the darkness, I could feel his sweet breath tickle my lips.

“Would you follow in Eve’s footsteps and eat the fruit from the forbidden tree?”

I knew what he was doing then and there. This was the real challenge. That snapped my brain awake from the haze he had tried to put over me. Looking up to the outline of a ghostly face before me, still in darkness. He was so close now, close enough that I could reach over and touch his face if I wanted. Or…

I gripped the purse behind my back tightly as I thought of an answer.

Oh, sweetheart, I’m not going to give in that easy.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Serpent?” I replied in a sing-song tone.

That got his attention. He paused, and that was enough for me to swing the purse it at him from behind my back. He quickly let go of my chin as though to catch it just as it arched to his face.  I could hear a clap of leather nonetheless against the skin of the back of his hand as he blocked it. I could swear I heard a low hiss from him but I sure as hell wasn’t going to stick around and fucking watch.

I took the opening, letting go of the purse and taking off down the hall. I could feel the wind as he tried to snatch after me but he just missed and I could hear him growl after me. I wasn’t stupid to think he wasn’t pissed.

I’m so screwed if he catches me, The words rang in my head, repeating with every step I took.

I couldn’t hear him behind me but I knew it wouldn’t be that way for long. If he was what I think he was…

I could feel a thrill thudding through my veins as I ran past the still lit bathroom to the bedroom. Bursting into the room before slamming the door shut locking it as fast as I could. I could swear the metallic click echoed down the hall and off the bedroom walls.

Frantically, I looked around the room. Not really noticing the lit candles that I most certainly didn’t light before going into the bath as I had a few other things on my mind. The only thing that was running through my head was a circle he had told me about once. It was supposed to help protect from evil. It wouldn’t be much but it would be enough to buy myself some time.

Cause if he gets in here… Oooh boy.

I had to fight back that giddy feeling as I ran to the darkly stained armoire in the corner of the room. Pulling open the doors, ignoring everything else save for four the strange black candles and candlesticks that I grabbed right away along with the matchbook nearby. Quickly I went to the center of the room, setting the candles on the floor in the four cardinal directions (or I hoped where the four anyway). I started striking a match and went to light one of them when I heard a sound that made me drop the lit match to the wood floor.

Footsteps walking down the hall outside the door.

I had to fight back the urge to start shaking as I picked up the match off the floor, lucky it hadn’t scorched the wood before lighting the candle saying a few words I could think of for the spirits of the North.

“... Hail guardians, I ask your protection.”

I quickly tried to light all of the others as I could hear those footsteps get louder and louder. I had just lit the last one when I heard the doorknob start to rattle making me almost jump even though I had expected it.

I racked my brain, trying to remember what he had told me about this circle and almost cursed.

The elements, I thought kicking myself.

To strengthen the circle I would need the protection of four elements, therefore... Something to represent them. Not exactly something I had in my back pocket and I don’t think we had anything like that here. I was about to prepare myself for hell when was then something else he said came to me.

Blood, He said blood was powerful enough to call upon them...

Oh hell, I thought as the rattling was getting even more insistent. Why does it always have to be blood?

I shook my head, no time to get squeamish now. I ran back to the armoire and grabbed the black handled knife that laid on the altar inside, before closing the door once more running back to the center of the circle of candles. The flames of the candles flickering, and almost dancing in the dark. I raised the sharp edge of the blade to the back of my hand, where it wouldn’t hurt too bad if I were to cut when suddenly the rattling of the doorknob... 

Stopped.

Silence rang in my ears now. I lowered the blade as I looked to the door, tilting my head. Did he give up? I thought, letting myself drop character for a moment. I didn’t have a chance to feel any trace of disappointment when I noticed the candles in the room…

There were all starting to burn low.

Flames so low it was almost like they were about to go out even on fully tapered candles. The air in the room felt heavy, heavier than in the living room, and unnaturally.  As though the room itself was holding its breath in preparation for what would happen next. And then suddenly…

CLACK!

The stark violent sound of the lock breaking, metal snapping, and giving, made me gasp. The now useless doorknob turned and slowly...

The door started to open.  

As it did, I raised the knife before me. No point in trying to strengthen the circle now. Feeling the anticipation in me build as the door swung open wider and wider, the creaky hinge the only sound in the apartment.

I braced myself as the door finally opened…

Only to be greeted by the stark darkness of the hallway.

What? I thought, taken off guard for a moment. I licked my lips to wet them as I stepped forward, staying in my weak little circle. Still, I couldn’t see anything. No figure, no shape. Nothing. Where had-?  

Suddenly every fiber of my being, every shred of my soul screamed...

Behind you!

I barely had time to swing around to see him standing there when the flames of the candles that made up my makeshift circle suddenly blazing brighter than torches. I cried out, raising an arm to try to shield my eyes. The sudden light blinding me a bit, purple and blue spots appearing on the edge of my vision. As I did the knife was torn from my hand, I could hear it clatter on the wood in some far corner of the room. Nor could I tell which one as suddenly the door slam shut behind me.   

“Did you really think a stupid lock, a weak circle, and a little knife was going to stop me?” I could hear that familiar voice before me say, I swore I could hear him smiling.

Before I could say anything, do anything, I was jerked forward as though a puppet on invisible strings. My arms were forced outstretched like I was on some invisible cross. I tried to fight it but it was like iron had settled in my bones. I turned to the figure about to say something when suddenly my heart skipped a beat.

I could see him clearly now, no shadows hid his face yet something about him still seemed to draw the light from the room. His face was like that of a Botticelli painting with full lips, a jawline that would make anyone’s mouth water from the thought of running along it, and chiseled features framed by curly ginger golden blonde hair. But that was where the human features ended and the others began...

His skin was… Pale. Paler than death. Paler than marble, veined and cracked with black like the darkness in him could just barely be contained. But it was his eyes that made my heart stop. There was nothing human about those coal black depths, darker than the pits of the earth. Seeing them… confirmed what I had thought.

He was a demon.

I felt my heart skip a beat for a reason I couldn’t let myself think of just yet as he stepped forward into the half-drawn circle, towards me. I could feel a shudder as I felt what little magic the circle have flicker and die. Yet he continued forward until he was towering before me.

One of those pale ringed hands raised up. I braced myself waiting for the other shoe to drop as he pushed back a few strands of hair that had fallen over my shoulder. I could swear he lingered on the still damp strands before his fingers raised up to oh so gently traced down my cheek. I couldn't see pupils in those eyes but I could tell he was looking at me carefully. I knew what he was looking for and dared to smile despite myself.

You wanted me to play along, didn’t you? Let’s see what games you have for me.

“Oh, I don’t know… You seem really determined to stay out of my weak little circle until just a few moments ago,” I said with a smirk. “What’s wrong? Is the big bad demon afraid of little me?”

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but I wasn’t expecting that slow wicked smirk to cross his face that smirk that made my heart skip a beat.

I had the feeling he found the response he was going for.

"Fiery little thing aren't you?" The demon said a terrible smile crossing his face. 

“I wonder how much of that you’ll have in you when we’re done...”

For @lovelykhaleesiii , @langdonsdemon , @lvngdvns ,@wroteclassicaly, @katiekitty261, @hxdesworld & @tickled--pinkmoodpoisoning

[bill-owns-my-ass]

4

Thanks for the ask love 💘

“I’m too sober for this.”

(I absolutely do not approve of cheating btw)

Mark had been cheating on his girlfriend, Lily, with you. This had been going on for around a month. Once every weekend you and Mark always seemed to run into each other at a party. Whether you knew the person who was throwing the party or not, you were there if Mark was going to be. Somehow in the midst of the chaos and flashing neon lights, you found him.

“You miss me?” Mark asked you cockily. He made his way over to you in the slim hallway, your bodies forced closer than usual due to the limited space you had. You chuckled, looking up to him with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t like you THAT much.” You teased, seeing that look in his eyes that meant you were about to get what you wanted.

“Oh, ok.. You like my cock but not my personality? How awful you are..” he teased back, getting even closer than you already were, your bodies threatening to meet.

“Says the person who’s cheating on their girlfriend.” You spoke back sharply. You could see he didn’t like the way you called him out. His hands were soon pinning yours above your head as he looked into your eyes with the same glare that trapped you the first time.

“C’mon, I’m not a bad guy.” He tried to convince you with a set of glossy green eyes and full lips. You knew what kind of guy Mark was, and you hated that you had gotten yourself mixed up in his habits. “Let me show you how good I am.. C’mon, baby..” he was using those words again. You were a sucker for his false compassion.

“Ok.”

It wasn’t long before he had you on your knees in some vacant room of a house you’d never seen before. Your lips were wrapped around his hard dick, he was moaning steadily in soft waves. You were working him up, your confidence building higher than Mark’s ego as he bucked his hips toward your face. 

“Fuck baby, you’ve got such a pretty fucking mouth.” He complimented, opening his eyes from their half lidded state and glancing down to you strongly. His smile faded immediately when you pulled off of him, wiping the dripping pre-cum from your mouth. “Why’d you stop?” He asked, sounding like you had just tried to kill him. 

“I want you to fuck me.” You spoke quickly like it were a secret you had been hiding. Mark hadn’t actually ever been inside you. The only thing that ever happened was blowjobs and fingering. It was good, don’t be mistaken, but you craved more. You wanted Mark, but he didn’t want you.

“What?”

“I want you to fuck me, Mark.” 

“Just get back on your knees.”

“No, I want you.”

“Well you can’t have me.” That broke your heart. The voice you always found excitement in hearing was now like a sad song. You could feel your eyes water, your lip was threatening to tremble while you stood there. 

“Mark-”

“Jesus what the fuck did you think this would be?” He sounded harsh. You could feel the humid hotness in the room leave and be replaced with a coldness that shook you to your core. 

“What are you talking about?” Your voice cracked pitifully, you wanted to leave, but being under his glare had you trapped. 

“I’m too sober for this.” He shook his head, grabbing the red cup of toxic liquid and walking out of the room. He left you alone in that place standing desperate and broken. What did you expect, though? He was almost as used up as you were and this was what he did. He hurt sweet girls so full of love and you were just one of his victims.